“Anything exciting happen today?” my husband asked.
I hate that question. For the record, no, nothing exciting happened at the nursing home today. Or at my parents’ house. My life is full of lists and schedules, rituals and responsibilities. I am officially in a rut.
I should count my blessings, right? My husband is caring, affectionate, and one hundred percent faithful. My children are beautiful and brilliant. My family and friends are always there for me. My work provides variety and a steady income. I am in good health and have a strong faith. What on earth do I have to complain about?
TV shows are fun. Shows like CSI and House are suspenseful and exciting. It’s also usually a happy ending, at least the mystery is solved. Probably the “vic” doesn’t feel like it’s very happy. The internet is fun, but hardly exciting.
I suppose, compared to TV, I should be thankful I’ve never come down with a mysterious illness, been kidnapped, been raped, been shot at, been cheated on, wondered who my dad was, struggled with my sexuality, accidentally killed anyone, been held hostage, been diagnosed with a terminal illness, had to bail anyone out of jail, woke up wondering what happened last night, fallen off a building, been cornered by a gang, been lost in a foreign country, lost a fist-fight, met an alien, had to dance for money, or lost my first love.
Maybe even excitement has its limitations. It’s probably not something to be pursued for its own sake. Yet, there’s gotta be a way to spice things up a bit: maybe a dance class, a mini-vacation, or an exotic restaurant. I’ll have to think about that. Maybe I’m restless for a reason. Maybe it’s time for some kind of change in my life, and I have to be prepared to accept it.
Maybe tomorrow, I can answer my husband’s question differently.