There are many things I don’t like about myself. Dozens actually. Maybe hundreds, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves. One thing in particular I can’t stand about myself is how nearsighted I am (confession: I just had to google that. I always confuse nearsighted w/farsighted, even though it should be pretty self-explanatory). I don’t mean physically, although my eyes are taking a turn for the worse. I mean I can imagine what tomorrow and the rest of this week should be like, but after that, I have no idea.
I am a terrible planner. The day before a trip, Steve will pack his clothes neatly into a suitcase, check us in online, put his two ounce liquids in a ziploc, then store the boarding passes safely in the middle pocket of his backpack. The extent of my planning is to set my alarm an extra five minutes early to throw some belongings into a bag and hope there isn’t traffic on the way to the airport. I either am afraid of what the future holds, or just expect it to change and don’t want to have my hopes either up or let down.
I live in the moment so much that it made a mockery of my resume. This job I have now, although it’s my second stint there, is the longest employment I’ve held. And every day that my badge still works, I am thankful and a bit surprised. I’m not saying I’m bad at my job and expect to be let go, it’s just that the longevity is something new for me.
Other than this marriage, I never held a relationship that lasted any longer than a season. The night of our rehearsal dinner, my dad kept cautioning Steve and I of the evils of divorce as if it was looming right around the corner for us. He told Steve he couldn’t divorce me, no matter what. I believe he even used the scenario of me killing someone as proof that no situation, no matter how grim, could be more grim than divorce. Maybe he was just trying to keep Steve around for me, because he was afraid my personality would eventually scare off the one man that was able to tie me down.
And here we are upon three and a half years of marriage and a mortgage and I’m just realizing how permanent everything has become. And it all just sorta snuck up on me. But I’m still not planning anything. I have Steve for that. I just take it one day at a time (the lazy route) while he meticulously takes care of the rest (everything). Each day, I’m happy to be able to badge myself into work, and every other Friday, I’m happy that miraculously another paycheck has arrived, and every 5th of the month, I’m grateful I was able to pay yet another mortgage payment. And every day, I remain conscious of how lucky I am for all of it, because no, you know I don’t have a backup plan.