some x-treme navel gazing
makes me misty-eyed
I’m not sure if it’s the fact that it’s almost the end of the year, or that it’s cold outside, or what, but something has gotten into me. I’m feeling so reflective and emotional lately. And it’s not just the past year that I’m reminiscing about – I can hardly even remember this past year. It’s the middling past that’s sneaking up on me.
I’m just now realizing that some of the momentous occasions in my life – things that really focused me or scared me or otherwise affected me for good or evil – didn’t happen "a few years ago" like I think they did. They happened 7, 8, 10 years ago. Can I be that old? Can time be going by this fast?
It was almost 8 years ago when I had the trifecta of a tortuous job, miscarriage, and general "what am I doing with my life" breakdown. Eight years! The same amount of time you spend in high school and college, spent OUT of school, learning different kinds of lessons, failing other kinds of tests, winning new battles, finding new friends, discovering who I am and whether or not that matches who I want to be…. eight years.
I am stunned it’s been that long. Eight years and I still feel fondly bitter over that horrible job and how I just walked in one day and quit, just like that. I still feel my heart race when I think of the ER trip when everything was spinning out of control and my pregnancy was lost. I still dream of the frantic maxing out of credit cards to fly to Sedona for my best friend’s wedding and then Hawaii, so I could spend a month mooching, baking in the sun, eating garlic shrimp and waiting for my floundering sad feelings to morph into excitement for the future.
How could it have been that long ago when it feels so close? How can I remember it all so clearly and yet forget whether or not I shut the garage door this morning?
I blame this all on the Whataburger Christmas commercial I saw last night. Stupid heartstring tugging, early-2000-era TV commercials.
I have officially become Chevy Chase, when he’s trapped in the attic during National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation. All I need is a musty mink stole and something to randomly hit me on the head.