Wait, you can run out of ketchup?

When I met the man who would become my husband (lucky guy), he was raising two children. I didn't even have a fish. I had pretty much changed apartments when my lease ended each year, moving condiments along with furniture, clothes, and art work. He had lived in the same house for almost a decade. As our relationship progressed, I eventually moved in with him (ok, it was only after 3 months).

My trips to the grocery store, prior to moving in with him, had pretty much amounted to an average of $50 a week. I ordered out on Friday nights. During our first month living together, I went to get the ketchup from the fridge. Where was the ketchup? Surely, there was ketchup in this fridge? I just used it last week. I moved leftover containers around, moved milk and pop bottles. No ketchup. I moved the salad bowl. No ketchup. M, I said, where is the ketchup? M replied one of the kids probably finished it, and there would be a new one in the pantry. Wait. What? Finished the ketchup? The huge bottle of ketchup was gone? How was this possible?

Fast forward, 8 years. I ran to the grocery store the other day just to pick up the basics we were out of. $45.18 the cashier said. $45.18 for a quick basic grocery store run. I went home and put the groceries away. I had to move the extra bottles of ketchup and salad dressing in the pantry, so I had more room for chicken and beef broth (Swanson, only, I have standards). Not only did I laugh at the extra bottles of condiments in the pantry, but when did chicken and beef broth become staples in my pantry? Probably about the same time I learned you can run out of ketchup.

Can You Be Struck By Lightning Twice?

The other day a friend and I were having a conversation about choosing to be happy. She thought about a friend of hers, who really has a hard life, beyond what any of us can imagine. But yet, this friend is always smiling, upbeat, happy. She makes a choice to be happy.

Today, when I woke up later than I wanted to, had to fight with my 7 year old about getting up (my name is now Meanie Mommy), and barely had time to wash my hair (it needed it in that cancel a date because I need to wash my hair way), I chose to be happy. When my windshield wipers wouldn't shut off, I thought: well, as annoying as this is, it's better to have ones that won't shut off than ones that won't come on. When I was stuck in traffic for 20 minutes for unknown reasons, I turned up the radio and had a dance party (the guy in the Audi next to me laughed). When I got to work and didn't even know where to start, I thought well at least I will be busy. When I realized I forgot my lunch, I remembered I had a can of soup in my desk. Happy. Happy. Joy. Joy.

When my bosses asked me to come into a conference room and told me my job was being eliminated along with 35 others, I smiled and said this must be hard for you. I could tell there was something going on all morning. The higher level boss said: I fought so hard to get you on board full time, I didn't want this. Your performance was superior, I am so sorry. My direct boss looked like she may be sick. I felt bad for them. I had to sit through this once, they had to do it 35 times. I know they didn't see it coming either (not to be a HR professional here, but had they seen it coming, they'd have never converted me to their payroll. I am now a liability on their unemployment costs).

Somehow over the course of 6 months, I managed to have enough stuff in my office to fill 3 boxes. I loaded my car in 2 trips. I smiled the entire time. I said hi to people in the hallway, congratulated one person on their recent wedding, wished people good luck. The wipers wiped the entire way home, the sun was shining.

I chose to be happy. I've been through this before, not even 2 years ago. I didn't see it coming this time, but I was far more prepared. I hated my long commute and I did leave my lunch at home. I wasn't much in the mood for soup anyway.

Cinderella Should've Poked Cupid with Her Glass Slipper

I haven't celebrated Valentine's Day in probably 8 or 9 years. I truthfully don't remember how this lack of celebration occurred. My guess is, it started as a way to save money and was just never introduced back into the gift buying holidays. If it wasn't for the fact that my son had to do Valentine cards for school or that jewelry commercials suddenly appeared again, I wouldn't have known this day was approaching.

I find the holiday annoying. Here is why:

1. that necklace, the one that will show just how much you love me... 50 other women will get it too, probably with the same little bear and in the same red box.
   
2. the flowers, eventually they will die, and guess who will get the joy of watering them, picking up dead leaves, cutting the stems again to salvage what is still alive, and then eventually tossing them all out and washing the vase...
3. the candy/chocolates, the kids will eat them, the dog will find them when the kids leave them out, all the good ones will be gone, and if I do get to eat them I will later have caloric intake regret.
4. for the love of God, what if I just want to go out to eat and all you celebratory people are taking forever at all the tables you booked months ago to stare at each other and drink a glass of wine? Puke.
5. the proposals. I hate holiday proposals. The only thing I hate more than holiday proposals is hearing about holiday proposals.
   
6. why does there have to be a day dedicated to "love" and "intimacy", shouldn't every day be dedicated to such things in a relationship? Or is it just easier to pay for a dinner and roses one night a year than do something every day to show caring, respect, thoughtfulness? I rather have 10 days of the laundry loads actually being changed, be able to watch tv in my house, and have the bathrooms cleaned, than one night at a restaurant with a bunch of other couples, and a high cost menu because of the date on the calendar.