One of the things I have done since I became a (temporary, I hope) lady of leisure, is committing to myself to write and post to this blog at least once a week. It has become another accomplishment I can control, like working out, in this uncontrollable life. And I have kept to my commitment since I made it, posting every Tuesday or Wednesday for the last 8 weeks.
My “method” of writing, if I have one, is not complicated. I basically think about what I want to write about, and then sit down and write it out. I will give it a check for grammar and spelling, but I don’t rewrite or self-edit. I’m really doing this for myself, and if anyone else likes it, or it resonates, that’s an awesome cherry on the sundae.
For the last week, I have had it in my mind that I was going to write this week about optimism vs. pessimism. I had it titled, Half Full, and had even written a couple of paragraphs in my head. One of the thoughts I wanted to put to paper was about how Kerry and I have such hugely different orientations on this. Best friends for decades, we inevitably see the glass differently, she being of the eternal half empty viewpoint, while I remain hopefully and hopelessly optimistic.
This topic even became a current event this week. I have been wrangling with the state of Utah over some tax issues related to my mom’s condo sale. It’s been messy, complicated and expensive, but I am convinced that it will eventually settle out in my favor (see, optimistic!). So when I received an envelope from the Utah tax board this week, I half expected to see a check fall out, returning the money to me that I believe I have paid in error. Instead, it was a notice that I owed an additional $5,761, and that it was due in two weeks!
This is a mistake, and it will get resolved. But when I told Kerry about it, still in the freak out stage, and explained how I was looking for that check, she told me I needed to lower my expectations. And I laughed, because I never will! I am always going to be looking for that kitten in the foxhole, or expecting that check in the mail. And if I get disappointed, I’ll deal. And Kerry will comfort me, just as I will celebrate with her when things go right.
So why is this post titled “Stuck”? Because I had a lot more to say on this subject, about how our upbringing affects how we see the world. About how I have to resist what I see as a dangerous trait of being an unrealistic dreamer, which is very different from being an optimist, and which can lead to a life of disappointment. About how this affected my mother, and left her with an unhappy and unfulfilled life.
But when I sat down to write this all out, I couldn’t. I felt, well, stuck. It’s been a difficult week, and I’m struggling. I haven’t lost my optimism, but I think it is safe to say I could use a win. So, I’ll call Kerry, and she will comfort me, as always. She may not believe in the inevitable happy ending, but she believes in me. And that, my friends, is something I can take to the bank…along with that large check I’m sure is coming from Utah.
The end, for now