There’s an old saying, “if you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans.” I think it’s Yiddish or something. Maybe I heard it from a rabbi, or maybe it was Mel Brooks. Anyways, it’s a point that I’ve carried around for a while, which is funny because I tend to run my mouth and fantasize about grand goals. Which is why I am truly amazed that life is going so well. Missus and I have been so happy with our quality of life lately. I know what people mean when they say blessed, but I don’t like using that word.
The stoic in me can’t help but tell me memento mori, it’s not going to last. I was sitting in the pharmacy parking lot yesterday and found myself fantasizing a rather grizzly accident — think 127 Hours — and you’ll have the gist.
I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. Things can’t really be going this well? Can they?
Part of this mood is probably from hanging out with my FIL this last weekend. He just bought a new house so his wife can work in the city when she gets her degree, and his resort mountain home is too far away. It’s nice, but part of the reason is that the end of the bear market took $600,000 of value out of his brokerage account, and now he’s got too many toys.
And I threw a bunch of junk out of my house Monday as well. I’m somewhat less hesitant to fill it back up with junk, although I did pickup a cart of shit at Goodwill when I dropped off that carload of computer equipment and old clothes.
Computers, books, musical instruments, board games. I think if I just had those things with me I would be happy. Hmm, there’s that word again. Happy. Be careful about giving yourself the things you think will make you happy. Chasing that high may lead to immense disappointment. I’d still want more. Even writing these words I thought of five more things, and basically came back right to the spot that I’m at now. I can’t add any more to the things I have, I can only take away.
There are still too many broken things around this house, unfinished projects. Clutter. Oh god, the clutter. I can mind driving a dirty car with stained panels, carpets, and cushions, but I can’t abide so many clothes that the jackets pile on the floor. No.
I went through our “subscriptions” with Missus this weekend as well, cancelling a bunch of stuff that we had accidentally purchased or forgotten about. We still have too much. Too many options for our attention. I had to change the Netflix password last night, after the girls got in a fight. It wasn’t because they were watching Netflix, it’s because Missus and I were trying to get a show in while the girls played outside. They were perfect until we called them in to get ready for bed and sent them upstairs twenty minutes too late. They were disregulated.
I think if we had turned the TV off and helped them get back on track we could have gotten them both down before they attacked each other. Lesson learned.