By Kim Thore
I was perusing the internet today and of course all the buzz was about the Golden Globes..still….Who wore what, who looked like hell, why Woodie Allen is the anti Christ…as the headlines blurred past me, I zoned out. I didn’t see any of it b/c in the current digs, tv is a luxury all of a sudden—well we get one channel and since I am not an 18 yr old vampire, not much appeals.
It has now been over a week since my world turned upside down. In a matter of minutes everything I knew to be true and comforting was gone in a phone call. A phone call telling me that a sprinkler system pipe had broken and my home was now a house boat instead of a condo.
When tragedy strikes, it’s funny how one of the first thoughts you have is “This happens to other people, not me”. I know that sounds elitist, but it is what goes through your head because all of a sudden the ugly side of life is startlingly clear and you see things you never expected. We are now displaced, the bank account is hemorrhaging, and everything that was right is left, up is down and well you know the drill. Life just plain sucks right now.
As I sat at my desk, I suddenly thought of Liz Taylor.
If she can win an Oscar for her role in BUtterfield 8, there’ s hope I’ll get my book published, walk down the red carpet and win an Emmy for my work on some fabulous sitcom…. Let me explain. Because we can only watch Netflix and movies via the laptops, I got stuck on the couch last night entranced by this movie that has Liz looking FABULOUS in boxy orange pea coats and matching gloves..unfortunately I only caught the last 45 minutes or so, but from every COPs episode I have seen, I’m taking it ‘ole Liz was adding new tricks to the tricks she turned as her sports car and closet were all that. Still, while I thought the acting was horrible, it did inspire me to wear a little extra eye liner today and flip my hair up in a swirl.
The scene where she buys an attache’ case from a Manhattan store window and her score lights up a cigarette at the counter, reminded me of a better time where women wore accessories with their accessories, stores engraved on the spot, a little light prostitution could get you a roadster and Hungarians remembered to put their heat on in the winter…..
I awoke this morning gasping for air…the latest example that my body is trying to tell me I am stressed out, like I didn’t know that. I went to sleep gasping for air, and pains in my chest. When you WAKE UP panicked vs GETTING panicked it’s never a good sign. I feel like a gerbil on a habitrail that someone hooked up to a motor…I just can’t seem to relax or take it down a notch…I don’t know maybe it’s the culmination of too much stimuli, change or because nothing is as it was. …
I want my normal back. Wow, I just sounded like Jamie Lee Curtis in an Activia commercial. Still, I am sure you understand…not the new normal, but my old normal.
In some attempt to feel ordinary, yesterday I got a blow out I couldn’t afford (apparently the distance between WS and Greensboro costs you an extra 10 bucks at the cheap hair salon franchise), and an outfit I didn’t need. The result? Well let’s just say my hair do is a hair don’t, I am stuck with a pair of ill fitting jeans and no matter how hard I looked I couldn’t find anyone selling ruby slippers that I could click to get me back home.
When I got home tonight, I went back to BUtterfield. Seems that it ends with ‘ole Liz driving off a cliff. Ok, so maybe I don’t envy that plot line so much after all…but then I realized maybe things aren’t so bad after all. Sure we are displaced and living in a dorm …but I now truly appreciate all of the things I used to complain about. I thought our condo was too small, life was getting a bit too routine, and there was never anything on tv. Now I realize normalcy is highly underrated . I miss my home..I miss the shower that was bigger than a broom closet, I miss my art, my friends…the CVS around the corner where everyone knows my names (I don’t drink so this is as close to Cheers as I am going to get)-and then I had a thought. Maybe the universe was trying to teach me a lesson.
It truly is the simple things that make you happy—sure I’d like a roadster and a closet that looked like Michael Kors exploded in it, but if you’re chasing bright shiny objects , wishing for more, you can overlook what you already have.
A dear friend told me a month or so ago after I was complaining that we weren’t traveling enough and I wasn’t sure about where my life was going that “You want what you already have”. I didn’t really get it then but I do know.
So we wait until the repairs are done, make decisions about where to live and start over, but this time I will do it with a little bit more appreciation for all of the little things, because I have a sneaking suspicion that when all is said and done, it will be those little things that really matter.
Besides, I never looked good in orange anyway.
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