I was driving home from the grocery store on Monday afternoon. It was beautifully sunny. 75 degrees. The sky was bright blue. I had a gorgeous view of the San Gabriel Mountains. My kids had the day off of school, so it felt a little bit like a holiday.
I preface with this so that you know that my head does actually understand and acknowledge that my life isn't at all bad.
But as I was looking around at my surroundings, I got that feeling. That suffocating, terrifying feeling that you get (or at least I get) when you're dreaming, and you know you are dreaming, but you can't quite wake up. The dream doesn't even have to be a bad one. It's just that idea that you've entered an alternate reality and you know you aren't really supposed to be there, but you can't leave.
That's how I'm feeling about living here these days.
I see endless years stretched out before me of living too far from family and friends. Endless years of things costing too much and there never.ever being a parking place. Endless years of traffic and lines. Ad nauseum.
I have this great friend. She's funny and honest and she sends the best texts. She has this blog that I would direct you to, except she never posts on it anymore.
By the way, I don't believe for one minute that she doesn't write anymore, I just think she's like, "Why should I let you all read this great stuff on my blog for free? I'm gonna write it in private, publish a book, and then make a million dollars." Anyway, that better be what she's doing.
She also has great perspective. So I fired this text off to her on Monday afternoon:
I always thought I was motivated by food. But I keep telling myself that as soon as I get the kitchen cleaned up, I can make chocolate chip cookies. I've been telling myself this for 2 hours. And the kitchen is still a disaster!!
She responds back with this:
It's Facebook. Time suck. Might be of the devil. Possibly the actual anti-Christ.
Remember how I said she was honest?
I honestly don't know how long I sat in front of my computer Monday morning checking and re-checking Facebook, Twitter, and email. I'm glad there's not some kind of a timer that sends automated texts to my husband--Social Media Addiction Alert: Your wife has just spent six hours on Facebook. You might want to stage an intervention or make her get a job. But suffice it to say that I probably could have washed, dried, and folded several loads of laundry run on the "whitest whites/deep clean with steam" setting.
And I'm like:
Gee. What makes you think I'm on Facebook too much? :o)
Hmm. What does clue her in to these things? Maybe the five status updates in two hours? Maybe the little green dot next to my name that shows I'm "online, like all the time?" I used to know how to hide that, but I've forgotten. Maybe the fact that I like and comment on just about everything everyone posts.
And there's just something about her brutal honesty that makes me feel safe to respond in kind:
Confession: I spend too much time on Facebook because I am afraid people are going to forget me and replace me with new friends. Not that very deep down, I have the emotional maturity of a pre-teen seventh grader. If I like every single thing you post on Facebook, you may think I'm a crazy stalker, but you sure as heck won't forget me.
I know I need to get a life. Here in California. I need to look on the bright side and count my blessings and make lists of all of the great things about this place until I can honestly say that traffic and never being able to find a parking spot.ever is a small price to pay. I probably do need to get a job or volunteer or do something besides sit in front of my computer all day.
I need to make friends here so I can stalk them and give my poor Kansas ones a well-deserved break.
I certainly need to get off of the computer, clean the kitchen and maybe even make a grocery list. And then I can finally make those chocolate-chip cookies.
It would be good to have a snack this afternoon in case I get hungry while trying to find a place to park my car at Costco.
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