Does Anyone Know How to Make Lemonade?
The end of last week was rough. A few things combined to make Stephen and I want to throw in the towel and just stay in bed for a month eating junk food and watching crappy television. I’m not sure why that would solve any of our problems. It would probably just help us ignore them. Or, more accurately, it’ll allow us to wallow in our misfortune. Oh, woe is me… my car battery died.
Actually, a few of the things troubling us were worth a bit of wallowing.
We know that part of being a young married couple with a house means that things go wrong, we will be poor, we are slaves to our jobs, and things aren’t really “how we planned.” It’s very easy to feel sorry for yourself in this state. So Stephen wallowed a bit at home. And I wallowed a bit in Galveston. By Saturday night we were feeling a little better about our situation. Not great, but a little bit better.
Start the violins, the “poor” chick is crying again.
So I managed to cheer myself up a bit, which is an incredible feat considering the fact that my hormones would rather I start a big fuss about everything. You know what they say… when life gives you lemons, make lemonade. So I decided to be productive last night. I started cleaning out my closet, gathered a big box of books to sell to Half Price, worked on laundry, made dinner, grocery shopped, wrote some cards, etc. etc. etc. Basically, I was being awesome.
Then at about 10:30 I went to go change the laundry so my robe would be dry in the morning and all of a sudden I realized, I clearly don’t know how to make lemonade. There, where my washed clothes should have been, was a lemon. It looked more like a washing machine that had broken in mid-cycle and was full of soap, water, towels, and my robe… but you and I both know it was actually a lemon.
So how do you make lemonade without even more random lemons showing up around your life? Maybe my recipe skipped a step? Maybe I didn’t make a big enough batch? I’m not sure. But if I don’t figure it out soon, you may find me in bed eating a bag of chocolate chips and watching marathons of Bridezilla and Keeping up With the Kardashians.
Please don’t let that happen.