the thing i'm struggling with most right now:

let me preface this with an acknowledgement that i have a larger-than-i-deserve slice of the pie with a strong net of friends and family and people in my life who care for me, entertain me on nights and weekends, indulge my whacky ideas, and support my every endeavor. 

acknowledging that is nearly enough to cure my of my morning whine.

i pride myself on being really really resilient. i'm the first to claim "independent woman" and to shrug off sympathies from others for my single status. from the minute i was born, i was taught to be a self sufficient doer. my mom was the bright shining star example of "if you want to get something done, you're going to have to do it yourself" and "work hard and amazing things will happen" and "be dynamic" and "you can change the universe" and "you're good enough" and "don't take no crap from no man." that, and i was roughed and toughed by a steady dose of continual torture from four brothers on all sides. i am tough. i'm not afraid of spiders behind my shower curtain or walking to the mailbox alone at night.

since nearly every human being in my world is married, i have a lot of opportunities to observe relationships and co-dependency and the division of responsibilities. a lot of good examples and a lot of crummy ones. lessons learned for that someday opportunity of mine to make a life with someone else, ideally successfully, and ideally forever. i'm a sponge - soaking it all in and wringing out the bits that don't really work out that well.

but then.... every time without exception... this thing happens: at the end of the night, i drive myself home. 100% of the time, i have a solo drive home in which i think about the day's events. that's when a lot of the wringing of the sponge happens but that's also when my mind wanders to comparative thinking... comparing the things luxuries they have of "his and hers" roles versus my "if you want to get something done, you're going to have to do it yourself" status {as i was so well prepared for by my mother all those years ago}. 

there are two trains of thought here, and they constantly battle themselves in my mind. each one winning 50% of the time.

1.  "my life could be worse: i could be married."  there's a lot of crummy marriages out there. i'm not confined to a world with perfect friends with perfect lives. dealing with my own problems, which, frankly are not very terrible, is not the worst thing. 

2.  "i'm ready for a reprieve." my garbage can has taken a lot of heat over the years, but i wouldn't be sad if someone else took the can to the street on sunday nights. and how inconvenient it is when i have to track down a strong arm to fix that bum screw... it always delay my own timeline. inconvenient little things that come so conveniently to almost everyone i know. 

and then there's this other thing. this really pitiful thing that i try to dismiss as soon as it creeps up in my mind. it's unhealthy and self deprecating, but sometimes very real - both in my mind and in the actions of our lives.

i am more aware than ever that i am no one's number one priority. i come in second place a lot, but everyone i know has a number one and number two always takes a back seat to number one {and usually a lot of little number threes, fours, fives, sixes and even sevens!} second place is good. lots of moms, sportscasters and coaches have spent years praising second place. but all the second places in the world will not add up to first.

anyone who knows me, knows rejection is a knife to my gut. and bailing? bailing on plans is a severe an offense as ever in my world. no matter the validity of the excuse. "i promised my husband" or "the kid is sick" or "something came up and i have to tag team this one with my husband"... all very valid! all very unstoppable. and none of which are faultable offenses. but all equal reminders that when push comes to shove, number two gets the boot for number one. i can't compete with number one and so i have no other option than to take it and say "okay".

 i get along alright. no need for sympathies or "your time will come" messages of future comfort. just sometimes i feel a little crummy about my circumstances. and today, this week, is one of them.

end rant.