It's my job... by Liz Flaherty

Do you suppose everyone wishes they were different? I'm not one who hates myself--other than my weight and when my hair's frizzy, but those are different things--and there are things I really...you know...like about myself. I like that I write, that I'm a feminist, that my faith is solid, that I'm fairly empathetic, that I accept and actually pretty much embrace the mental and emotional detritus of aging. (The physical, not so much.)

But I really hate that I'm scared of snakes and spiders and that I won't remove a mouse from a trap--or from anywhere else he's died or still lives. I'm sorry that even though I know how to change a tire, I'm probably not going to. I'm disappointed that the most athletic thing I do consistently is turn rings round and round on my fingers while I'm thinking. 

My sister used to say that Mom was a good "poor" cook. She made the best soup and soup beans and potato salad around, and her homemade bread was to die for, but approach her with a nice steak to cook and she'd run the other way, afraid that she'd burn it or something. She was also absolutely certain all recipes called for more good stuff than they needed, so her chocolate chip cookies never had a whole bag of chips in them, the sugar in her sugar cookies was likely halved from the recipe, and she could make a pound of hamburger feed the 5000. The purveyors of the loaves and fishes had nothing on her. 

I like that she could do that. I don't like that I've never risen above the ranks of mediocre in either poor cooking or otherwise. I would ruin a hamburger as easily as I could a ribeye that costs whatever they cost a pound right now. (I can also set the smoke alarms off without even trying. It's a talent and all, but no one appreciates it.)

The other part of the whole cooking thing don't like is that I no longer care whether I cook well, badly, or mediocrely--I don't want to do it at all. 

I like clothes, but I don't like they never look on me the way they did in the picture. I like shoes, but not that one shoe always feels better than the other one and that when you buy a duplicate pair because you really liked the first ones, the duplicate often doesn't work out. 

Oops. As usual, I've segued away from the subject at hand, haven't I? That's another thing I don't like about...no, wait, I do like that. Because life is comprised of moments, isn't it? And even days. I've said forever that I've had a few years I wouldn't live through again for any amount of money, but actually, those years had some great moments in them. Some great days. 

I started writing this determined I was not going to be Polly Positive today, because I do realize it annoys some people. Sometimes I even annoy me. But, the truth is, even with bad moments, bad habits, bad days, unreasonable fear, etc., I'm not a half-bad person. And neither are you. I'm so glad to know you. 

Have a great week. Enjoy the Cole Porter Festival. Like yourself, and be nice to somebody.