I was finishing up making some turkey burgers for Brandon’s dinner/my lunch tomorrow when he turned to me and says something very peculiar: “It’s amazing that some people only eat turkey at Thanksgiving.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask him, “We eat turkey all the time.”
“Yeah, but some people only eat turkey at Thanksgiving!”
Shock and horror washed over my face and I realized: he might be right!
Well I didn’t die. Nor grow a curly pink tail. I did however find myself stuck in bed for a solid four days, and then spend the next four going to bed earlier than a 2nd grader. I suppose now I just need to kick this last little sniffle’s but and get on with loving this fall season.
Started coughing today. Not exciting.
Brandon is starting to look much better: fever is all but gone, appetite is mostly back, more alert, getting up and doing things for himself.
I, on the other hand, have been feeling miscellaneous symptoms for the past couple days. Nothing severe. A little stuffy, a little tired. And today, a little cough. Annoying, really.
I do all the things you’re supposed to do to avoid getting sick. I go to bed early, drink lots of fluids, & be sure to get plenty of vitamins. But, I’m not making much progress in keeping healthy.
For a few years now, I’ve been able to ward off colds and flues by doing these things. I’m going to be more than a little disappointed if I come down with a serious flu.
I mean, I know it happens… people get sick. But why me?
Usually carrot cake because it’s Brandon’s favorite.
But I always think it looks kind of ugly, so I try to make mine pretty.
My best friend in high school was one of those girls who dreamed about getting married. Not being married, just that day of being a princess in the big white dress with a gorgeous man who promises to love you forever.
She did, after graduating early to move closer to her marine fiance. They fought constantly, but married anyway. And not much later, the divorced.
We drifted apart, much because I disagreed with the way she treated the man she had been married to, and also because I realized we just weren’t going in the same direction anymore. We floated around the same circle, though, and had many of the same friends. She was dating very seriously a guy who was good friends with my ex. Problem was, he wasn’t proposing. He still had another year before he finished college, and he wanted to get some things under his belt before committing to care for her forever and ever. She dumped him, though, thinking she could find better, and now.
He and I became friends, and even dated for a while. Nice enough, but totally not for me. I wasn’t surprised at all though, when he told me that she’d called him up and wanted to “talk.” I figured she’d caught word of our one-hot-minute, and didn’t want me to win. So they got back together, she waited it out, and they’re still married today. Maybe they really are a good fit together, or maybe she doesn’t want to be divorced again. Either way, I don’t know either of them well enough to judge and truly wish them the best. Everyone deserves their happiness.
This was never me, though.
Yeah, of course I wanted to find someone I could grow old with, raise a family with, be myself with. I never was one to compromise my standards and morals though, in hopes of increasing my odds of acquiring these things. I won’t say never, though; I was once in a bitterly self-depreciating relationship, more I think because of feelings of worthless in general than in hopes of starting a life and family with this man. When I finally gained the courage and strength to leave, I was most shocked to hear that he had already bought me a ring. What, really? Why?
For quite a while after that, I worked on myself. I came around to the idea that perhaps there wasn’t really anyone out there who could “put up with my crap,” as I was fond of saying. It was a little disheartening at first, but it also helped me learn the value of patience. It’s one thing to say you have patience when waiting for something that is more or less inevitable. But to really accept that something may never come at all, and to go on with your life: this was practically patience transcending.
I dated, surely, and I crushed. And flirted. And kissed. And more. But I found a way to be true to myself regardless of the time that passed by. Though not really much time had, between the time I learned this lesson and meeting someone who is still very special to me. But had I not figured this out, I know he and I would not be as happy as we are today. Perhaps we would never have been.
This is my lesson on never settling.