The Theory

Mo and I have this theory.

Stuff comes in waves. The good, the bad, the ugly- everything can be measured in waves.

She and I use this to explain certain times in our lives when whatever is going on simply can not be explained by anything else. She will just text me “Waves.” and I know exactly what is going on.

For instance: April through June ish last year was a super-crest of a wave for me. I was in the best shape of my life, I was tan, my hair was long and gorg, I had graduated with my Bachelor’s degree, I was getting ready to marry the man of my dreams, and I visited Cancun, Europe, and Hawaii within six weeks. I mean, ridiculous right?

Right now I feel like I’m in the trough of a little tiny wave. I feel, sort of out of sorts. Maybe muddled is a better word. Maybe just a bit behind?

– My magazines on my table are unread and months old.
– My eyeliner is sharpened down to one little inch
– My makeup brushes have not been washed since before our wedding (ew foul)
– My last CD was created August of 2008
– My harp Odette has been covered since March
– My clothes don’t fit very well. Stuff isn’t cute. Gaining weight is so hard, no matter what.
– My creative side is longing for an outlet, a project of some sort (baby nursery?)

Maybe this is just the beginning of the “Nesting Phase” I have heard so much about. I don’t really know.

Yesterday our apartment had a tiny flood. Nothing was seriously damaged- our carpet was pulled up and the padding will be replaced. Our greatest loss is that Tivo will be unplugged for a few more days. We have the carpet lifted and fans running to get everything dried, it really was best case scenario, it could have been a lot worse.

In light of our situation, Jazz and I decided to get some exercise and walk down to the snow cone stand on the corner of 23rd and 94th. This place just opened and Jazz got a snow cone this weekend and I ate most of it because it was SO GOOD. I usually don’t like icey things, but his was delicious. Whatever, I’m pregnant, stuff changes.

So we embark on our journey, and I hef my pregnant self around for about 40 minutes (I told you it was exercise.) and arrive at the snow cone place….only to find the shack closed. For no apparent reason. All closed up nice and tight like a big wooden slap in the face. I was crushed.

I almost cried. Jazz heroically bought me a cherry slurpee at 7/11, but it just wasn’t the same. We walked another 40 minutes back home to our construction area/living room. I texted Mo to tell her of this travesty, and of course, she replied, “Waves.”

She was totally right.

This little tiny wave is just a wiggle in a big wavelength of my life, and sometimes it takes a few off days to realize that you need to suck it up, get it together, and change the things you wanna change. That is the whole point of being here, right?

The silver lining in every trough is that I know I will figure out what is causing me to lag, and fix it, and everything will be right in the world again. (Well, as long as the snow cone shack is actually open.)