Garrett has been nagging me lately like an old, crotchety housewife to get a replacement light bulb for my book light. Though I don’t have kids so I can’t say this with any authority, (BUT THIS IS THE INTERNET! WHO NEEDS AUTHORITY TO SAY THINGS?) for me, a book light is akin to one of those fancy white noise machines that seem to lull newborn babies to sleep. I can’t live without it. And since Garrett knows this and is a fan of that “Always Be Prepared” boy scout motto, he has been nervous the past few months because I am out of replacement light bulbs. I, on the other hand, like to live on the edge. Action! Intrigue! No Replacement Book Light Light Bulbs!
It was all fun and games until this morning when it was dark out and I was sleepy-eyed and enjoying slowly waking up with my completely page turning new thriller, and during a particularly juicy passage, it burned out.
As you do, I took to twitter to discuss…
And it made me laugh, because you guys, I PROMISE MY LIFE WAS EXCITING ONCE! But now I am someone who tweets about dying book-lights and sometimes I feel I am one step away from owning an inappropriate amount of cats and spending my evenings knitting them tiny, wooly sweaters using the acrylic yarn for sale I found online. But I am also incredibly happy with this little life, so at least that’s a consolation, right?
Other things you would have seen me do this morning if some hip TV network got its act together and offered me a Reality TV Show because the pace is my life is so lightning quick:
*bought an Americano at Peet’s
*paid my gas bill
*walked into a public bathroom at my place of employment where only ADULTS congregate and found a giant unflushed turd
*shook my head at humanity
*discussed with my friend Shelby how the only Friday night plans Garrett and I have involve a Jersey Shore marathon since we have 3 episodes on the DVR which is causing anxiety
WHERE ARE YOU WITH MY CONTRACT, MTV????
Tangentially related, Garrett and I have been talking a lot about our Kid-Having Plan lately (which will most definitely be preceded by our Wedding-Having Plan, but that one isn’t quite as fun to talk about since party planning stresses me OUT!) As we were laying on our bed last night rehashing how tired we were after both of our particularly long days Garrett said, “I don’t even know how we will do it once we have kids. Like, how will we function when we can’t just come home and sit on the couch and drink wine and tell silly stories and have that be All That Is Required?” And I have to admit, this is the part that makes me nervous. I know that kids bring you joy and all of that, but they also bring a larger Poop to Romantic Evening ratio than I’m used to, and mentally this causes a bit of trepidation. I think this only natural.
But then I thought back to just a few years ago and the pace of our life then compared to now, and it is about as different as the party you throw for your 21st birthday vs. the party you throw your parents for their 50th wedding anniversary. Assuming your parents don’t like Midori Sours as much as my 21 year old self did, of course. (HORK!) And even though we do SO! MUCH! LESS! swinging from the chandeliers now, the last few years have felt totally natural and not dramatic at all so I tried to comfort Garrett with that fact last night as he was looking for a bag to hyperventilate into.
I know we will grow and change. Our priorities will evolve and it will be a natural process if we stay true to our intentions and do the best we can to focus on what’s important in the moment. Right now we know how good we have it but I am looking forward to preparing for the good times ahead. I woke up this morning with a very strong feeling that the future is going to be bright! You know, assuming I get some replacement book light bulbs to illuminate the path of course. I guess I’ll be adding “Stop By Barnes & Noble” to my Friday Night Agenda.
Reality TV, here I come!
Did you admire the un-flushed turd? Did you flush it or leave it for others to admire? After reading this post, my attention was still on the poop. 🙂
It was too early, and too little of the americano had been consumed, for admiration. I hit the brakes, turned on a dime, and made my way to the next stall. For the record…
Holly, you know there would be a huge group of people watching you buy that booklight bulb and then arguing all over twitter about how cool/lame the packaging was and how super cute your denim was, but oh-no-no-no not the granny shoes. #hollydid
In my mind, this is EXACTLY how it will go down. Maybe Bravo will pick up my show???
I actually forgot you weren’t married and when I got to the part about the wedding-having I thought: wait, what? Oh yeah, that.
Girl, you just crack me up! Speaking as someone who has kids, let me reassure you (in no uncertain terms) it very possible to still drink lots of wine, converse in ” meaningful” conversations ( or very silly ones ) and still swing from chandeliers! It just has to be put at the very TOP of your To Do list :-)To me, sometimes life seems much sweeter now than 10 years ago! You will be an awesome mom!
I was JUST thinking last night that before I had a kid, I always worried, HOW WILL IT ALL GET DONE?! How will I cook and exercise and clean and sit on the couch and drink wine and tell funny stories and everything you said? How will I still be ME and not be running around like a chicken with my head cut off in mom jeans and greasy hair and no makeup and making microwave pizza for dinner?
The answer: I don’t know, it just happens. If you don’t think too much about it, it happens. One day your life is a square and everything is in its own little quadrant and corner and then the next day it’s a circle and everything is still in there, it’s just sort of roaming around, but it’s all still there. (What a lame analogy, but it’s all I can think of.)
Anyway, I am happy to say I still get the same stuff done same as before, albeit with slightly tighter jeans (which are currently unbuttoned, as you know) and a cute chunky monkey.
You give me hope, lady!
Mr. Darcy and I worry about this too. We’re like, if we have kids there goes our down time. But we’re 38. Time is ticking. Stupid time.