May You Have An Interesting Life

“May you have an interesting life.”

If I remember correctly, this is an Asian saying with the dual purpose of being both a blessing and a curse.

I have an interesting life.

A week and a half ago, I was thinking about what to write next. I contemplated end of year reflections and New Year hopes. I built draft blog posts in my mind.

Then my purse was stolen along with my checkbook, passport (Why, yes! Yes! I am a dumbass.), car registrations, proofs of insurance, my rings (irreplaceable because they came from little shops in various countries and cities), my watch, my everything notebook, my new cell phone, Weight Watchers stuff, photo booth pictures of me and Mr. Wurdibitsch (irreplaceable), pictures of the grandgirls (thankfully, replaceable), signed checks from Mr. Wurdi, all of my keys, lottery (probably winning) tickets, my memory stick and more. The inconvenience of closing accounts and opening accounts and stopping and redirecting direct deposit and changing auto pays and all that other crap was a great big pain in my ass.

There was good news:
I always carry my work badge with me but I'd tossed it on my nightstand that afternoon.
I meant to bring my camera but left it on my home office desk.
I’d tucked my wallet (cash, ID, credit cards) in my pocket.
I still had my old everything notebook at home.
Mr. Wurdi usually carries his computer (and leaves it in the truck). He didn't this time. He also forgot his phone in the hotel room. If he'd left it in the truck, he'd probably have lost it, too.
The locks on the house were getting worn out and needed to be replaced – we just ended up doing that sooner than planned.

I was going to do a blog post on the lessons I learned from that little experience (and I may still) but I had some other difficult issues to deal with and then I got bronchitis. Thursday, on the way to finding out that I had bronchitis – wait. I wasn’t going to find out I had bronchitis. I was going to my doctor to get a prescription for Zyban because I’m quitting smoking next Wednesday, January 17th. Mark the date… So, I was on the way to the doctor who would soon discover during the course of talking to me about Zyban that I had bronchitis. My car started overheating. Badly. The needle up in the red zone near the “H” while I was driving down the Interstate. I turned the heat all the way up and put the fan on high while I crossed my fingers. The temperature came down and I was able to make it to the doctor.

After the appointment with the doctor, I got my first estimate on repairing my car (water pump, Chrysler, damn it): Close to $1000. The second estimate was about half of that. I asked the guys if it was safe to drive it just a little bit longer. See, with the stolen checkbook fiasco, my direct deposit of my paycheck was lost in banking limbo land. They said to keep an eye on the coolant levels and temperature gauge and get it fixed soon. I planned to figure out a way to do it middle of the next week.

All of this happened right in the midst of my regularly scheduled drama. Oh sure, there’d been very special episodes of drama popping up for months but it all of a sudden just got to be too much. I was feeling rather picked upon by Fate for a few minutes. I wanted to wallow in self-pity. I wanted to cry but held off because that just makes my contact lenses cloudy. I wanted to pound my fists and feet and scream, “It’s not fair!!”

It didn’t last long. Funny – and not the ha-ha kind – how we get slapped in the face with a little perspective when we need it. I’m not dealing with heartache over a relationship or a loved ones illness or death. I’m not having an excruciatingly long recovery from an illness or surgery. I’m not dealing with medical uncertainty or a life-threatening illness. I have people I love who are dealing with all of those issues and others equally as difficult right now. My whining stopped and I started thinking of the positives in my life: I’m in a great relationship. I’m able to see my parents every week. My parents, kids, and grandkids are happy and healthy. I have a job and a home and supportive friends. More than I could possibly list, I am blessed.

Monday morning, I was ready for a NEW new start to the New Year. I prepared the night before by getting my clothes laid out (including my jewelry). I cut up my fruits and veggies. I got to bed at a fairly reasonable hour. I woke up with a whole new attitude.

My car wouldn’t start. Dead battery. My other car wouldn’t start. Also, dead battery.

I WAS OUT OF CIGARETTES.

I am quitting next week. I wasn’t quitting Monday and, damn it, it had turned, rather abruptly, into a chain smoking kind of Monday.

I remembered something a very wise woman and dear friend said. What she said speaks to the times when you feel like you just can’t handle one more crisis in your life. It reminds you that you aren’t the only one on the planet dealing with crisis. It’s some good shit about bad shit.

She said:
1. bad shit happens to everyone all the time,
2. people get over bad shit all the time,
3. just because you don't see bad shit in someone's life doesn't mean it's not there,
4. we have all walked a mile through a field of relatively bad shit in cruel shoes at some point in our lives, and
5. even the biggest load of bad shit does not have to define your existence. you just have to choose to rise above the bad shit and put it behind you.

that is my shit theory.

She’s wicked smaht, don’t ya think?