Epilogue

I've concluded, in the face of all else, that it must be me.
There has to be something wrong with me.

"Maybe they didn't realize that you were asking THEM for help. Maybe they saw it as you trying to help them. And that's why they declined"
Is what my husband said about an hour ago.

Perhaps.

"Maybe" I said last night. "Maybe it's me. Maybe this is all a bunch of bullshit and I don't have this zen calling of christianity. Maybe I'm just a loser"

Yep. The problem is that I don't have a goal. I'm not a decorator, I'm not a consumer. I'm not going to school at night, or working full time. I'm not trying to write the great American novel or save the whales. Maybe the problem is that I don't HAVE a goal of my own so I'm happy enough helping others reach theirs.

"Maybe" my husband said noncommittally.
I channeled my fried Jess "Why don't you do what would make you happy" I asked myself.

Well that's a funny conundrum.
I don't have anything I'm desperate to do.

I've achieved professional fulfillment, I had Ellie, I'm happy with this house in terms of decor, I'm not an avid traveler. I read when I can, I garden when it's nice out, and I like to hula hoop on occasion. My husband and I laugh over what's funny. We visit family and friends. It's a tiny little life but I think I've learned that the key to happiness is not working to get more, it's being happy with less.

"Until Ellie's in preschool" I mused to said "I don't see much else I can do."
In terms of "growing" myself.

He commutes 2 hours a day. He walks in the door at 6:45. I'm not going to join a book club, a writers workshop, a woodworking shop class. We have maybe an hour after Ellie goes to bed. Really. So what, he'll walk in and I walk out?

I mean I guess.
Really?

Doesn't seem to make my husband much of a priority.

So yeah, I guess I'm a loser. And a hopeless romantic one at that.

I DO have a lot of time to help get other people where they want to go. Because it seems like THEY have a purpose even if i don't per se so sure, I'll lend a hand. Not because I need to, and not because I need to be liked, or need to be needed, but because I can.

And I'm piss poor angry at my so called frieds for not rising to the fucking occasion and doing one tiny mitvos in the universe.
or at a minimum, for me.