Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened. Which of you, if his son asks for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him! (Matthew 7:7-10) [from the Sermon on the Mount, so yeah, that's Jesus talking. Why red instead of green, I don't know. But when Jesus talks, his words come out in red. Maybe it's the whole blood thing. I like to think it's b/c it's one color away from PINK, my favorite color.]
This has been a rollercoaster week. One only has to read my post from earlier this week to see that the vice of worry was pinching me to a point where I could not see the light at the end of the tunnel. I love Paula's picture...
Now, buying the car did not solve all my problems, but any psych doctor will tell you why you take psych drugs--if you are so depressed that you are crying all the time for no reason, or you have shut down, the drugs will create a buffer or a mini boost so that you can think about why you are depressed and work on talking about and solving those problems.
But if you know what your problems are, more drugs won't help, that's when either your life needs to improve or you need more talk therapy. Thankfully for me, getting the car gave my endorphins the boost they needed so that I could stop being the needy crying clingy woman that I became this week. (Be glad you only know me in cyberspace. I was also a bit of a bitch.)
So now is the time for housekeeping, both in my apartment (after my allergist appointment today I am going to pump myself full of antihistamines) and in my life, my heart.
BUT FIRST, IT IS the time to CELEBRATE!! Tonight will be a cleaning party in my apartment, and tomorrow, the party to celebrate me turning 29 again...I mean 36. A friend told me she starts saying she's whatever age she's going to be a month ahead of time, so that it's not such a shock when she gets there. Well, I need a party to soften the blow, and I NEVER EVER thought I'd say that. I love birthdays, and I love the fact that I get to be alive another year of my life. And I wouldn't want to be 29 again for all the tea in China (or even a million bucks, either in currency or actual antlered ones.) But I have to say, I sure thought that at 36 I'd have a minivan with three tots and a diamond ring with its matching gold band. It is often difficult for me to sit with my single friends who are 25 or 26 who say, oh I wish I was married. Because I get all righteous (hopefully only in my mind) and get the older sister syndrome. You don't get to get married sister until I do!
Which is ridiculous. I have many younger friends who are wonderful moms and wives. At 35, almost 36, I see how much I still have to learn about relationships, and how GRATEFUL I am that I don't have a minivan, etc. because I would be also in divorce court. I am NOT ready. The fine gentleman that I am dating is not ready. (Which makes us perfect for each other, right now.)
Whew! Those are some strong words. Here, go read an article by Camerin, a writer who is also my age and not married. The article is called "Remedial Relationships."
Writing is bizarre. How, in writing about THANKS FOR THE CAR, ABBA DADDY did I get to the heart of my heart ache of a golden band on my left hand?
Oh, look, time to get ready for another jam packed day.
17 hours ago