Take a Walk

It's cold here. Icy. It's a good day to have worked from home, as I did.

Yet today, for the first time in awhile, I went for a walk. For no reason, to nowhere (I walked down our road and back).

And it was so good for me. It burns calories. Breathe fresh air. Get less screen time and more nature time.

And most of all clear my head. No iPod today, although sometimes I bring it along. Today, just thoughts. About nothing special. About everything. Things I want. Things I need. Things I can control. Things that will never happen. Things that will happen with or without me.

And an hour after I left, I am back. Defogging my glasses, standing in front of the fire for a minute to warm my legs (need a second pair of pants next time). And what a difference an hour makes.

I need to remember that feeling. I need to get it more often. That's something I can control. Something for me. I hear the benefits of self-care. And as a childless woman who works different hours from her husband, I have plenty of time to care for myself. Indulge my hobbies. I just need to indulge a little more in time with my tennies and myself.

Best of the Worst

I do my civic duty and vote. And I am responsible enough to be an informed voter and know which issues matter to me and which candidates best represent me. I read a lot, I talk to others, I listen.

But usually I wish there were more options. Or maybe not more, but better. I often end up voting something close to a straight party ticket, which I feel is a bit of a cop-out. Do I think that party is always best? Yes. No. Yes.

Best of the other options on the ballet? Yes.

100% right all the time? No. Not at all.

Lesser of the two evils (and I am aware that there are in fact more than two options, but realistically we live in a two-party country). Yes.

Still. I wish politics was less often taken over by politicians.

Keeping Up Appearances

I was in a small car accident - a fender-bender, really - last week. (Everyone is fine.) My fender - or more accurately, my door and the area behind my door that is apparently called a quarter panel - is dented. It was entirely not my fault, and as the other party worked for a car rental company it appears that there is a check in my future.

1. I am shocked at how much body work apparently costs. I really thought the amount of damage would be less than my deductible. Nope.
2. This means that the insurance company will cut me a check. A big one - less than the value of a new car, but big-ish anyway.

And so enters the first major disagreement of our young marriage. I would take the money, get the tires aligned (damage caused by the accident), get some work done on the engine (pre-existing), and take the rest of the money (which I estimate to be around $1,500, although that number pretty much came from my head) and pay off some debt, get some fuel to heat the house in the winter, or do something else to better our financial situation. This would mean that I would drive a slightly dented but totally functional car.

Husband would spend all the money getting the body work done. We would have a car with a smooth exterior, although next month's finances would be the same as this month's (which is to say, tight).

I really don't care what my car looks like. I care that I hate worrying about how we will pay all the monthly bills. I care that I have a car. It's eight years old, but it gets me from point A to point B, regardless of if it is dented.

Husband doesn't like looking at dents and hates the idea of driving a not-so-nice-looking car. He doesn't love the bills, but he's willing to live with them since we do in fact have enough to support ourselves.

And so goes the disagreement.

No One Mourns ...

I'm days away from a big birthday. I'm usually not one to spend a lot of time reflecting on my life, but indulge me.

Also, I am watching Glee (I'm giving it another season before I make it official, but so far it's in the running for Best Show Ever). On Sunday, my family and I are going to a touring production of Wicked. So my reflection is taking the form of musical theater. (Naturally.)

Now, in a musical there is some adversity ... although you'd never see a character in a musical spend an entire workday fighting off wracking sobs. Typically, one character comes to a realization about another character (or themself) ... and they use this realization to improve a situation. They learn they have skills or powers previously unknown. They assess the value of objects or people or a location.

Lessons are learned. The heroine belts out a solo. The people around her support her voice and her dance moves. She's a better person at the end. Usually she's in love and/or a stronger person.

My life ... not really like a musical. I'm messy. I can't sing. I don't learn the lesson the first time. No one else knows my spontaneous dance moves. But that's OK. Because you never know what happens after the musical ... I don't know what will happen in my 30s, but I know that I am in control. No lyricist, no choreographer, no actress. Me.


P.S. Rachel Berry just said she was born in 1994. Shit, I am old.

Good Timing

This week at work started out ... badly. We'll just say that things did not go the way I expected them to, and despite trying to appear like an adult I pretty much cried through the workday on Monday.

But today is Thursday, and I had a vacation scheduled for Thursday-Sunday. A camping vacation, which is starting a day late due to some hubby sickness, which will be a perfect chance for me to get away and enjoy a beverage and stare at a fire and do a lot of nothing.

So this week is ending ... well.

Family

So what makes a family? Blood? Time? Commitment? Love? Marriage? And who decides? Is there one person who decides who is is part of the family and who is other? Is it just assumed after awhile? Do you treat "family" different from people who are close to family?

I've always been of the opinion that people with whom you celebrate holidays are family. But I'm told that's not right. I have blood family and not-blood family, and I'm closer to many of the latter than I am the former. But the blood family apparently wins. Weird.

Planning Ahead

Today, I cleaned the floors in our entry, kitchen and living room. I do a quick sweep on a regular basis, but it's not often that I actually move everything, vacuum, sweep and mop. And our soil is quite sandy, so there was plenty of grit around.

And I came to a decision. Even though our children are still theoretical, I'm so getting a cleaning lady when we have them. Just once (or maybe twice) a month. Since I cleaned the floor tonight, I didn't get to bike (too much nasty pollen anyway), make supper or do other stuff. Including, presumably, play with my kids.

Someone should get a better-playing job now so we can afford it.