Why am I such a malcontent? We had a perfectly lovely day. I went for a run (hoo-ah) and then came home, ran a few reports for work, got dressed. We piled into the car for a trip out to Del Valle regional park for a an afternoon at Amazing Bay Day- a Girls Scout activity. Viola and Avery played games, learned about conservation and earned some badges. Woo hoo! We stopped on the way back at Pizza Patio which is about our favorite little family pizza joint here in Fremont. They have a little area for the kids to play games and win tickets- not nearly as hokey or as expensive as Chuck-E-Cheese and the pizza rocks. I ran to the mall tonight to return a dress and, of course, stopped by the MAC coubter. I came away with a couple new looks for the lips, which is good. I've been wearing Twig for like 10 years now, time to change it up every now and then, eh?
I'm just pining for change, though. As great as every day life is, this s now the longest I've ever been in one place. This is bay FAR the longest I've gone without majorly rearranging the furniture in a futile attempt to feel as if I've actually changed something for real. Where do we go from here? What's next? Part of me wishes I was moving across the country like Rebecca or maybe having a baby, like TB at Soul Gardening. Th problem is, when I get like this it can go either way reallyl Sometimes I just don't care what happens as long as SOMETHING happens. Something different. And that can be a selfdestructive place to be. Umm, lemeesee... yes, get committed to psychiatric hospital- well, that's something different. Get caught shoplifting toothbrushes from the local drug store- well, hey, jail is really something different. Sleep with some guy who isn't my husband. Again, different! Take home kids that aren't actually mine. Heh! Way different! So, you see... this can go to that not-so-good place.
I've been known to do spontaneous and sometimes self-destructive things in the past. And I'm pretty durned well convinced that my mother is bipolar, so why shouldn't I be? So maybe I just need some nice medication. Maybe some zombification ala trazadone? I can spend the rest of my days drooling away in chemical bliss. I do worry that these spontaneous urges are a sign that I am like my mother. I remember being seven and thrown into the back of the Volkswagen van, carted away mid-school-year from a spur-of-the-moment whirlwind trip to Disneyland and the whole rest of California, too. This was while my parents were in the middle of bankruptcy proceedings. But, see, it's hard to tell... is that wrong? Is that right? Is that crazy? It is sane?
All I know is I want something to happen. No, nothing bad. But if something doesn't happen soon I may do something crazy like pack us all up and move us to Kenya or Thailand or something.