So, um, I never quite know what to say after a post where I’ve worry-vomited all over the keyboard and the majority of you are so sweet and kind about it, holding back my hair and assuring me that it’s okay. I want to follow it up with OH HEY FALSE ALARM, IT’S ALL GOOD! but that isn’t really how it goes.
On Saturday morning, Otto left at the crack of dawn for a work thing, I packed the children off with their dad for the weekend, and then I spent the entire day being responsible to no one and not talking about anything. Not solving any problems! Not discussing my feelings! Just being silent. Blessedly silent. And possibly shopping for shoes and watching bad television.
So Saturday was kind of a break from being “on” and it was just what I needed. Eventually the dog and I crawled into bed and when we woke up on Sunday morning, Otto was back! Hooray!
Otto is concerned about me. You see, he knows that when things get rough with the kids I have a hard time letting it go (HAAAAAAAA!) (something I crack myself up with the use of my subtle understatements) and I may be just a little, you know, kind of depressed. So he was ready to ask me how my Saturday was and also TALK ABOUT FEELINGS to make sure I was okay. But that was not what I wanted to talk about.
I wanted to talk about COFFEE. And also bacon. Because—like any red-blooded American female—I believe in sublimating my angst in food. So I thanked Otto for his concern, asked him how his workshop went, and then demanded that he take me out for brunch because BACON I NEED BACON FIND ME SOME IMMEDIATELY.
Otto is a man of action, so in very short order I was sitting in a cafe, slurping coffee and waiting for my bacon. This is why I married him, readers. (Well, that and his health insurance.) We had a lovely brunch and then I was prepared to return home, so that I could resume doing nothing and speaking to no one, but Otto had the brilliant idea that we should go get frozen yogurt. So we did that!
As we sat outside, enjoying our dessert, there were two young women sitting at the table behind us with their food from a nearby sub shop. I assume they were college students. And as one of them ate her little package of Doritos she went ON AND ON to her friend about how GOD IS SO GOOD and HIS BLESSINGS ARE ENDLESS and how following him seems hard until you realize EXACTLY HOW AWESOME HE IS and Otto and I sat there, eating our yogurt, trying really hard not to laugh.
Now, I’m all for personal beliefs. I’m kind of… well, I’m on the fence about evangelism. I tend more towards the “be a shining example” side of the equation than the “shout it from the rooftops until the heathens repent” kind of thing. But this young lady was 1) really loud, 2) eating Doritos (I’m sorry, I can’t take you seriously about how God calls us to perfection while you’re eating neon cheese dust, I just can’t), and 3) saying… absolutely nothing. I mean, she kept talking about HIS INFINITE BLESSINGS and THE WONDER OF RIGHTEOUSNESS and I began to wonder if maybe she was on drugs. No examples were given. Never did I hear her say, “And here’s what happened as a result of that choice.” She did, however, spend fifteen minutes talking about HOW AWESOME it is to know that I NEVER HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT KISSING MY BOYFRIEND, THANKS TO GOD and then another half an hour expounding on her roommate search, because in the past her roommates have been “Christians who are really still just finding their way” and that was “interfering with having a home that’s a haven” and I went from being amused to just thinking that her roommates must’ve spent a lot of time fantasizing about killing her in her sleep.
Hers is the path of righteousness and meaningful cheese dust.
As we headed back to the car I confided to Otto that I am probably a terrible Christian because I derived waaaaay too much amusement out of that conversation, and he kind of patted me and said that the young lady in question seemed happy, and I had to agree that this was true. But then I kissed Otto in the middle of a busy block and said “YEAH BUT SHE’S NOT ALLOWED TO DO THAT WITH HER BOYFRIEND” and then I felt quite smug. So. (Then again, Otto and I are married, so I think we’re allowed. Or maybe we’re not. I’m not sure. IT’S SO CONFUSING.)
Back home again, Otto brought all of the leftover snacks from his workshop into the house, and suddenly there were snack-size candy bars everywhere, luring me with their siren song of chocolate deliciousness. I resisted for about an hour, but then the Reese’s Minis and I became… very close.
Today I still don’t have a plan or better outlook on life, but I do have a nice little sugar hangover to remind me that food doesn’t cure problems, it just makes them slightly more delicious, temporarily. Or something.