All You Need is....

There is a superstition I have on road trips of making a wish when I cross over a state line.  For added measure, I will also kiss my hand and tap the ceiling of the car.  I am not entirely sure where this superstition came from, maybe from watching a friend or family member do something similar, but it is something that my daughter now does too.  I cannot speak to her wish, but mine is always the same: “Health, Wealth, Happiness, Love.” 

Lest you worry that these things won’t come true if I share this wish with you, don’t.  After all, they haven’t yet.  But as we are in a period of reflection at the start of a new year, maybe this is the perfect time to re-evaluate this wish. 

HEALTH

Although I have managed thus far to stave off any major illnesses or injuries, there is a certain level of physical and mental disintegration that I have endured within this last year (and by year, I really mean decade).  Anxiety, depression, physical and mental exhaustion…these are my normal states of being now—so much so that I find it difficult to even sit and write. I need to recharge my battery, fill my cup, whatever it is that will help.  And I have no idea what will help.  It’s certainly not the hormonal imbalances that have started to affect this “woman of a certain age”. 

WEALTH

We've heard it said that “money is the root of all evil”…but not having it doesn’t bode well either.  I will tell you something that not many people know:  I have never been so effing broke in my entire life.  Perhaps it just seems that way because I am working multiple (low-paying) jobs, the creditors (and bankruptcy) are hounding me, rent has doubled in the last three years and I am a single mom to a teenaged daughter.  Due to unfortunate circumstances, what was supposed to be a second job, has become the first job.  Ain’t no one can live on minimum wage, my friend.  Yes, I traveled to England this past August, but was only able to do so because my ex gave me airline miles to go pick my daughter up from camp (which he also paid for) and an angel of a friend let us stay with her.  In reality, I only had $700 at the time, garnered from the meager tips I’d collected for months of working as a barista at Starbucks…and I was stressed out the entire trip that I wouldn’t have enough to make it back home.

HAPPINESS

Not gonna lie…working as a barista is the worst job I’ve ever had.  Oh, I suppose the job itself is fine, but I have never seen such awful, entitled people in my entire life (and I’ve worked A LOT of customer service jobs).  It’s like dealing with a bunch of toddlers who have been deprived of snacks and naps. 

But there is one advantage to working at Starbucks:  tuition reimbursement.  Even with all of the school I’ve attended, I’d never completed my bachelor’s degree (just an associate degree).  Strangely, I really love going to school and this job will help pay for it.  If I can just keep it together for a little while longer, I will have a nice shiny degree to show for it.  Not sure why I need this degree so much, other than knowing I can allegedly get a higher paying job because of it.  If nothing else, hey, I love going to school.  Lol. 

LOVE

Um…I got nothing.  OK, not nothing.  I theoretically have my daughter, friends, and family.  But I also have an overwhelming sense of loneliness—which probably explains all of those online streaming services (like Netflix, not porn, people), my two cats (crazy cat lady here I come!) and the cocoon-like piles of laundry on my bed (who needs a boyfriend pillow or a weighted blanket?  Not me!).  Most of my close friends are married or in committed relationships so I rarely see them.  Instead, I’ve resorted to crawling into my hobbit hole rather than seeking out companionship (romantic or otherwise) because it’s, well, easier.  The older I get, the more I understand that I am no longer an extrovert.  I don’t prefer to be around people—especially after slinging coffee for the assholes of the world.  It also becomes harder and harder for me to reach out to others for fear that I am bothering them.  I am exhausted by trying to live my best life and not feeling that I have the resources to do so.

Le big sigh. 

So, where does that leave me for 2020?  Finding a new wish?  Not taking any more road trips.  No, of course not.  But perhaps the way to achieving what I want isn’t just in wishing for these four things for myself, but for others as well.  I resolve, therefore, to endeavor to spread the positivity this year. 

May you find Health, Wealth, Happiness and Love, fellow humans.  Don’t forget to spread it around.

Until next time, my Lovelies….

On the Second Day of Christmas....

ON THE SECOND DAY OF CHRISTMAS, MY TRUE LOVE GAVE TO ME...HALLMARK MOVIES.

Right around Thanksgiving, there is an onslaught of romantic Holiday movies (most of which were made popular on the Hallmark Channel).  Almost every woman I know (and some guys too) will binge-watch these movies,  maybe until their eyes bleed, like an addict phening for Love and Hope.

The premises and character archetypes are almost always the same, almost as if the creators were pulling plotlines from some Holiday Movie Generator:  Plucky young women, often bakers or workaholics or single moms with a precocious kid, who may not believe in love or are in the wrong relationship or down on their luck romantically;  Hot, single men, often carmudgeons who don’t believe in Christmas (or love), but who have hearts of gold—and sometimes a precocious child.  Sometimes they are old friends who have history…or maybe they are strangers shoved together due to dire circumstances.  My favorites films also tend to have a mystical element (a magic calendar, an angel, a ghost, the real Santa!), because how else will these stories be more believable?   Oh, and there is almost always someone who either teaches (often a toothy little rube or an elderly gentleman) or learns (our main characters) about the true meaning of Christmas.  And a happy ending.  OF COURSE, there is a happy ending.   

Predictable or schlocky these movies may be, however, we gobble these movies up like  platefuls of baked goods.  Their syrupy content is like a complete sugar rush, but without the caloric intake.  A fact which brings us back to them, over and over.  I’ve had numerous conversations this season alone about the intrinsic value of these films and how much we enjoy them.  Easy to digest, they offer repast from the stresses of our own Holiday reality.  And that is hardly a bad thing.

It is only when we actually do return to our reality, of course, that we are challenged.  My love life is no Hallmark Holiday Movie, that is for sure.  Too bad, I think a sassy single mom (of a teenaged goth daughter)/divorcee in her 40s who finds love in spite of financial troubles, a messy apartment and a fat, grumpy cat would make for a wonderful plot.  Guess I’d better go write it now.  Watch for it soon, will you?

Until next time, my Lovelies….