Keeping Up

Some people are terribly invested in keeping up with the neighbors. I find that rather ludicrous because how do you know what the neighbors are really doing? I mean, if the neighbors just bought a new car and went into debt up to their eyeballs are you really jealous of the debt? Or is the car that much of a positive thing that the debt is unimportant.

I don’t need to keep up with the neighbors. In fact, I’m not all that sure what my neighbors are actually doing. But if I had to guess, I wouldn’t want to do whatever it was. I have one neighbor who is going through life with a chip on her shoulder and finds fault with everything that everyone else does. I don’t want that, for sure.

My other neighbor is a very nice woman who is younger than I am by far enough that I certainly don’t want to revert to that stage of my life. I don’t want to deal with a teenaged son ever again. I wasn’t overly thrilled with it during the first run through, and I certainly don’t need to do it again.

But I do have a list of dreams. I want to be healthy and fit so I go to the gym, but I could be a little more devoted to the workout thing. I could easily spend time each day outside the gym doing physical work, walking the dog, scrubbing something, burning calories. And oh, those calories. I’ve devoured all the Christmas cookies, but there are still many empty calories in my house waiting patiently for their turn. I love chocolate and potato chips. Everything in moderation, I’ve heard it said. So I only eat my junk food in moderation. I find it works for me and so I am happy with that. Until I eat more than I know I should have and then … well, I berate myself.

I want to be a published author. I blog. I write for a three-times-a-week ezine with about 2000 members. But, I would like to have my book published. So what have I done? Well, I’ve written the thing. I’ve run through a first edit. I have the entire thing printed out and am working on a second edit. Nothing in those words about actually trying to sell my book. I would love to have the book fairy come to my house one night and take my book off to the publisher and wake up to a best seller. Or even a seller. Doesn’t have to be anywhere near best. But … I have not done anything.

I want to have a better, more open, more agreeable, more intimate relationship with my family. I wish I was closer to my sons, but … I do nothing to improve those relationships. I hear of parents who have children who are what I think is suffocatingly close. I back off from that. I’m not sure that my level of closeness is the correct level for my children, but it sure works for me and so that is the level I’ve chosen. I wish I knew if I was choosing wisely. Or if like the Indiana Jones movie, I’ve chosen poorly.

I wish I could keep up with myself. My dreams. I want, I want, I want. But I don’t take the steps necessary to achieve the things I want. I am even ambivalent about the things that I want. I want this as long as that isn’t disturbed. I want this as long as it comes easily. I want.

I did meet with the volunteer coordinator and am now able to be a volunteer as long as I can pass a TB test - where do I study? And as long as my background checks out. I’ve not got a criminal record of any sort, so I should be good to go.

Well, that is one want I can check off as accomplished.