Life could be better these days. We've "got issues," as our favorite innkeeper, Fred, often says.
Here's a partial list. I think that Bunny, our beloved cat, is dying of heart disease and/or lymphoma complications. I have to find a job, since my freelancing projects aren't paying the bills (especially the vet bills) and I've had no steady work for more than a year. My elderly relatives are very fragile these days. My husband is stressed out, overworked, beleaguered by evil bosses, and anxiously awaiting news, probably coming this month, about the one-and-only job of his dreams, which he interviewed for last October. I'm officially middle-aged, going very gray, but still trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up. We need to sell our condo and move, but we can't find the right place, and we couldn't sell this place in its current ruinous condition anyhow. I miss my mom, my grandmother, my aunt, my cousin Ed, and all my other precious family members who are gone.
And we're going to be in trouble here in Massachusetts without Ted Kennedy. I won't bother to get started on our government, the economy, or global issues. I don't know a single person over in Iraq or Afghanistan. I'm that sheltered and fortunate.
I do realize that I'm whining, and that many, if not most, people have as many problems as we do, if not far worse ones.
So I also realize that this is the time to be grateful for all we do have and enjoy, which is bountiful. We're healthy, we have a lot of nice friends, and we're actually pretty far from despair (except perhaps about the cat). There's some money in the bank (enough for those vet bills, in fact). We can keep this roof over our head even if we're not very comfortable beneath it.
I'm lucky I'm not working in some office at the moment because I can spend my days trying to feed Bunny, talking to her, and keeping an eye on her. We trust our vet, we're determined to base our decisions strictly on what's best for the cat, and I have faith that we'll make the right choices, hard as they may be. At least our other two cats are chipper and playful, even though they are getting old, too.
Some of my elderly relatives are having a swell time, having discovered the penny slot machines at the new casino in our home town. My dad's still as sharp as a tack at 95. (Maybe I'll finally be a sharp as a tack if I live to be his age.) My mother-in-law is an intrepid inspiration as she cheerfully finds new ways to get around town without driving a car these days.
Hmm, what else? The nights are getting cooler, so sleeping is easier. Strategizing about all my husband's work troubles is an interesting creative challenge that is bringing us "closer together," as they say. We were already pretty close. When friends wonder how we can live so happily in such a small apartment, we admit that that we're always happiest when we're in the same little room together, cramped as that may be. That's a lot to be grateful for right there.
But maybe there will be a wonderful little house in our future somewhere. Last night I was looking on Redfin as far as Lynn, where there are beautiful Victorian condos, and single families, for bargain prices. But I don't know how I'd handle leaving Back Bay, with its perfect walkability score, for the distant North Shore, where I'd need to learn to drive and get a car.
But I guess there's still hope, and possibilities. I think I'll wander over to St. Clement's, old sinner that I am, and light a few candles and sit in the silence for awhile. Whenever times are tough, I find that ritual very comforting.