A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about The Thing. For days, The Thing rested on the tip of my tongue, just far enough away from my brain that I couldn’t recognize it.
The Thing kept me up at night, had me losing focus. After about a week and a half, I threw in the towel. There was much too much going on in my world for me to be worried about things I couldn’t remember.
And then, just like that, The Thing revealed its identity.
I was at a book club meeting with some friends, discussing the August selection. The main character had the picture-perfect life — handsome husband, smart children, gorgeous home. But after 15 years, she was farther away from achieving her goals than she had ever been. And to make matters worse, she wasn’t even sure what her goals were.
A first-time attendee, who’s newly engaged and in her mid 20’s (Oh, to be young again!) asked “How do you keep from losing yourself in a marriage?”
I could have kissed that girl. She shined a big ole spotlight on my Thing.
Between working a full-time, teaching part-time, and being a wife and mom all the time, I felt as if I were slipping away. These past few months have been so busy that I’ve forgotten to take care of myself.
Girls’ weekend in Chicago was a great start, and so was going to book club last week. This is a three-day weekend, and I’m determined to have some solo quality time. First thing on the list — White Ayurvedic Chai (my favorite) and some must-see TV. I think I have a whole season of Burn Notice in my DVR.