Happiness is...what, exactly?

And just when I'm feeling all cocky, like maybe things are turning around and going in the direction I'd like them to for once, life comes along and gives me a nice little smackdown.

If you asked me, I wouldn't say that I'm a sucker for punishment. I don't think I'm needy or have self esteem issues. Maybe it's some kind of genetic defect that ensures that I will fall hard for the wrong men, and then stick it out and hope that I'm wrong long past the point that a smart person would have run screaming for the lifeboats.

Stupid is as stupid does, and man, I feel stupid this week. I got a multiple whammy, and I don't even want to talk about some of it - THAT's how stupid I feel. Not fun. Just lying here, contemplating the ceiling and doing a little re-evaluating of everything while I'm metaphorically flat on my ass.

So just a little taste of what I'm dealing with - just one small thing. There are several others, but like I said, I'm not going there at the moment. Maybe later.

We've had this little tax issue with my husband's company for the last 3 years (yes, 3), in which the govt claims that they haven't paid them any withholding, and they claim they have, and we go around in circles, and my husband says he'll take care of it, and I believe him. Until today, when I got a notice from my company that my wages have been garnished to pay for his tax bill. MINE. Not his. I'm the wordsmith, so what's the right phrase for this situation? Oh, that's right -- FUCK that noise.

Why have I put up with this, you might ask (along with the other stuff)? And the answer is....I don't know. Seriously. I don't know. I know that if the shoe was on the other foot, I would have had my ass kicked down the street by now. But noooo, I always have to be the nice one. Well, I'm not feeling nice.

It's a good thing I'm running the half marathon this weekend. I'm really, really not feeling particularly fond of men at the moment. Nope, not feeling the love.

Curiouser and curiouser...

The last couple of weeks have been a lesson in focus, serendipity and putting things out to the universe.

I spent five days in Canyon Ranch with a group of really motivated, intelligent, interesting women. We worked out, hiked, talked, were scrubbed and massaged, sat by the pool, cooked, ate, and generally detoxed and relaxed. While we were there, we all went out on the night of the full moon to walk the labrynth. We also had a charm to leave there, signifying something to accomplish and something to leave behind this year. Mine was a silver heart - signifying that I'd like to figure out where to go with my personal life, and to leave the anxiety about my professional life behind.

Eventually, we had to leave paradise for the real world, which is always an adjustment. But this week has been very interesting...

Because of a conversation with one of my customers about change management, I was introduced to a woman who has created a "mental fitness" training program. Because of my lunch with her, I was introduced to the COO of a Scottish total lifestyle training company who likes my background. Because of a conversation about eLearning with an exec in my company, I'm now on a rotational action team with national exposure. Because of a random conversation about the difference one year can make, and the effect of playing the "what if?" game, I was introduced to a publisher from Penguin who wants my book outline.

I may not have figured out what the heck to do about my personal life yet, but at least I can say that things are happening on the career front -- and for the first time in a long time I'm really optimistic. And a little nervous, since I suddenly need to get serious about putting my money where my mouth (or my writing) is.

Carpe diem.

Summer Days

I'm having a sensory memory right now.

I just came downstairs from putting the girls to bed, and the whole house smells like wildfire. It dropped me straight into the fires from two years ago -- I immediately had to go out in front and then out in back to see if there's a telltale glow in the hills or on the horizon anywhere. Nothing is visible, so I hope it's just a bunch of outdoor fireplaces. I REALLY don't want to pack up the house and evacuate again...

There are days I truly love being a mom. Today was one. I got up early to run/hike with a friend of mine, and it was absolutely gorgeous. But you could tell it was going to be a scorcher - at 8:00am down by the ocean it was totally clear, sunny, and HOT. So when I came home, I said to hell with the housework and took the girls to the playground with the waterpark sprinklers (since we don't have a pool, like I grew up with), and we ran around for the next few hours. When they got hungry, we came home for lunch, and I set up beds in their fort outside, and they both fell asleep there for several hours. It was a very peaceful day -- the kind of day you're supposed to have when you're a kid during the summer.

When I was little, my two best friends (next door and across the street) and I all had pools in our backyards. When you live in a place that hits 115 in the summer, a pool is a critical accessory. We would spend every day (and night) during the summer traipsing from one backyard to the next, swimming in the morning at Lori's, in the afternoon at Becky's and at night at my house, depending on how the fancy struck us (or how our parent's respective patience levels might be). By 10:00pm, we were exhausted little mole children, completely blind from the amount of chlorine our eyes had endured. The three of us would crash at someone's house, and get up in the morning to do it all again. We didn't have "play dates" -- we were more like a pack of puppies.

I miss that.

Keep Moving

Today's quote of the day was so good, I needed to immortalize it.

One day Alice came to a fork in the road and saw a Cheshire cat in a tree. "Which road do I take?" she asked. "Where do you want to go?" was his response. "I don't know," Alice answered. "Then," said the cat, "it doesn't matter." – Lewis Carroll (1832-1898)

I spent the entire day today fighting the urge to get in my car and drive until the road ran out. I've never been addicted to anything, but I think I understood today what people who are fighting an addiction feel. I just wanted to leave everything in place, get in the car, drive somewhere, and start over from scratch.

It's not like anything horrible happened today. It was a gorgeous day. But I had 5 loads of laundry to do, and the bills to pay, and the kitchen to clean, and baths to give, and church, and and and. Some days I think I have meaningful work in me, but there's just so much stuff that gets in the way. And suddenly I find myself sitting on the wall in the backyard, looking over the hills and wondering how far would be far enough.

I think it's a good thing I'm giving my alter-ego a road trip; my subconscious is stuck in craving mode.

Vicarious Sex

I just liked the title.

I think I'm going about this all wrong. Since my day job/real life is just not all that and a game of hide the biscuit at the moment, I really need to get off my ass and start living vicariously through my characters. Fuck real life. My heroine has needs, damn it! At the moment, she needs:

• To get laid so I can write some hot sex scenes (has anyone read Cosmo lately -- good god, I'm not letting my daughters touch that until they graduate college/birth their first child - no wonder they now have Teen Cosmo, which probably thinks only talking about the J's is appropriate for that age group);
• A really good stripper name (and a club, for that matter);
• Some snappy dialogue/soliloquies;
• A kick ass masseur; and
• A three-book deal and an HBO miniseries...

Not that I'm projecting or anything.

And why is it that when I get on a perfectly good writing kick for one project, the idea for another, totally unrelated one blossoms in my brain and demands immediate attention, like a three-year-old whose mom is on the phone? I need that thing (I can't remember what it's called at the moment) that Dumbledore has in his office into which he deposits his memories/thoughts to create additional space. Where can I get one?

It is increasingly apparent to me that I will just need to create my own version of reality.

Inertia

We walked down the street tonight after dinner and shared a bottle of wine with our neighbors, while the kids played in their living room. They have the same model of house as we do, so we talked a lot about the landscaping and the decor and what we liked about the neighborhood, and it was a very pleasant night.

And the whole time I was sitting there thinking, you know, to the outside world we probably seem like a really nice, happy couple. No issues. Great kids. Except that we'll go home tonight and put the kids to bed and revert back to our usual roommate personas - I'll clean the kitchen, he'll fall asleep on the couch watching the war channel and then we'll both end up in separate bedrooms to sleep the rest of the night. Remind me why I want this?

I think what I'm most afraid of is the fact that when we're not fighting, the inertia of every day life will make me forget that this isn't the way things should be --we're not 70 years old, for god's sake, I shouldn't have to go without sex or getting anything back for the rest of my natural life for no apparent reason. I don't want to rub my eyes 5 years from now and think, wow, you traded passion and interest because...you liked the neighbors? Your backyard was just perfect? WTF? I know those women; they're not fun to be around. I don't want to be one.

But where do you draw the line between unsatisfied and miserable? I'm not miserable. I just have the nagging feeling that even if I spent the rest of my life alone, it would be more satisfying in the long run than this is. Except that I don't know if that's the case with my kids. Which is why I'll keep putting off a decision until I'm sure one way or the other. I'm just not sure what it's doing to my self respect.

There are some days I wish I was fearless.

Harder than it looks

Take what you want, and pay for it, says God.


On my vacation last week, I read what might make the short list of my favorite books of all time: The Likeness, by Tana French. In it, one of the main characters has an excellent, insightful soliloqy around the fact that despite the elegant simplicity of this saying (i.e., there is a price for everything, accept that, and pay it) we have all managed to overlook the second clause. We want what we want, but we're outraged when anyone, ever, mentions that the bill must be paid.

For me, that was a timely reminder. Perhaps I've spent too much time over the last year getting myself knotted up about managing to have absolutely everything I want (satisfying career, happy family, effective writing, productive alone time, enough money, workout/running time, interesting vacations, fabulous sex life/terrific relationship, etc) without having to pay for anything.

It's all about the consequences. You CAN have what you want -- just know what the price is, and whether you're willing to pay it. Is it worth it? Where does it fit in the grand scheme of things? Do you have to have it RIGHT THIS MINUTE? Instant gratification has become so easily achieved.

If only the consequences were immediately apparent - it would make prioritizing so much easier.