The ramblings of an erratic woman

l

I’m becoming exceedingly private these days – at least when it comes to the bare-my-soul stuff. Even in the face-to-face presence of the people I trust the most, I find myself holding back – because just because I think/feel/act a certain way today doesn’t mean I’m going to think/feel/act the same way tomorrow, and how would I explain that?

In short, my emotions are drunk. (I am not.)

I guess I just don’t trust myself these days. I am convinced – convinced – that something is true (like, I WANT TO MOVE FAR, FAR AWAY) (MY LIFE IS HORRIBLE) (I HATE EVERYTHING), and then one day, like today, things feel different. Better. Calm. Until maybe it will all change again – which, it totally will. I am a fickle, persnickety nutcase.

There are a lot of factors contributing to my erraticism – things outside of my control that are pressing in and weighing heavy and making me feel unsure about the way my future might unfold – so you can understand why I am craving certainty. I love certainty. I want to marry it and have its for sure, locked in, done deal of a baby. (That was weird. Forget I said it.)

But in the midst of the uncertainty, there are some things I know for sure.

Savory breakfasts will always be better than sweet, and breakfast at home will always be better than breakfast out. Laughter is jumper cables for the soul. Also, puppies. Lori McKenna’s “The Luxury of Knowing” is the best song in the world. No one – not a single one – can have a thick, glamorous side braid like Princess Elsa. Food looks most appetizing when on a white plate. One should never buy a car brand new. It’s better to have done things you might regret than to have always just played it safe. If tempted to buy something pricey, sleep on it. Being impressive will get you far, but being liked will get you further. The best things in life are not things – unless, again, those “things” are puppies.

And though I’m not fully there yet, and HARDLY an authority, here is what I suspect:

We should work for 8 hours, play for 8 hours, and sleep for 8 hours.
We are not defined by what we do, but by who we are.
It’s all going to be okay.

l

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5 Comments

  1. Michael on October 27, 2014 at 8:43 PM

    All I’ve got tonight is I love you…you get it! You are an old soul…my sister. I am here, if the weight gets too heavy…until I can’t be here anymore. I love this post! Good to hear from you. and puppies will save us…from ourselves and evil aliens…so says Dean Koontz.

  2. Janelle from Canada on October 27, 2014 at 8:48 PM

    Yes! This. Thank you sister, for you’ve spoken a lot of words that I sometimes can’t muster up to the surface. Please know you’re not alone and that if you find certainty, please have the decency to introduce me to his/brother or cousin because I will fiercely marry him and have his baby too. xo.

  3. Sarah on October 28, 2014 at 5:57 AM

    Hi there. I guess we’re both in kind of a funk lately, but probably also like you, my puppy dog rescues me over and over and over again.

  4. monika on October 28, 2014 at 8:13 AM

    Welp. There. You’ve done it again. You’ve said exactly what I’m thinking/feeling/acting, and made me feel like maybe I’m doing things exactly the way I’m supposed to. Except… I’m still on the fence about savory breakfasts versus sweet. My fickle, persnickety self sometimes (who am I kidding…ALWAYS) wants both.

  5. Allison on October 28, 2014 at 7:41 PM

    Oh my gosh. I think “A breakup is like a broken arm – set it, and then don’t mess with it” is the truest thing I have ever read on the internet.

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