Compared to what many people endure, my life is a cakewalk. Lately, though, it has been a stressful cakewalk. My lawyer job went out for competitive bid, which it has done periodically for the past twenty years. Each time, I tell myself, “I am not putting myself through this again….” because the procurement process will pluck the last nerve of a cast iron saint.
My daughter has been on the edge of her academic seat in recent weeks too, as she’s come down to the final laps on an associate’s degree that will qualify her to work as a vet tech. The nice people tell you how easy it is to get a job as a vet tech, but they don’t tell you that the curriculum is set up so one mis-step out of about ten mandatory steps in the final term, and you have to repeat the entire term, and you only get one do-over.
And because hard things come in threes, I’ve gotten at cross purposes with my publisher on a few issues too. Nothing major, but in my present mood, a hangnail could feel major.
My agent worked out the publisher issues and left things in a better status all around.
My daughter passed every test with flying colors.
The State awarded me another three-year contract to represent foster children.
I got all this good news in about a 24-hour period, and it hasn’t entirely sunk in even yet… I have manuscripts to work on, you see. But I did pass along the glad tidings to a friend, and he asked, “So how are you going to celebrate?
I am chagrined to say, I had to think about this. I’m not a big drinker, I prefer to socialize one on one or in small groups, and I’ve never been much of one for retail therapy. I can watch “North and South” or “Pride and Prejudice” any time I please…
Maybe I’m doing something right, if planting pansies qualifies as a celebration to me, or walking my dog, or calling my parents, but I think when this much good befalls me, the moment calls for something more extravagant.
Whatever that gargoyle is that’s trying to spoil your happiness—the tax bill, the noisy neighbor, the extra fifteen pounds that keeps trying to turn into twenty—how will you celebrate when you’ve emerged victorious, and the gargoyle has been sent packing? Chocolate? Date night? Mani-pedi? A book splurge?
I know how I’m celebrating. The first fifty people to comment get an Amazon gift card.
Let the wild rumpus begin!