Skip to main content

Life's Big Choices

At times I struggle with anxiety. I fill with dread at the thought that I might not be making the right choice. I question whether I'm truly living life to the fullest. My mind overloads with thoughts that I might be missing opportunities, walking by something that was truly meant to be experienced, throwing away time by fearing unchartered waters.

I'm of course talking about deciding what to eat for lunch.

Look, people. I sit in a closet. Literally. They took the doors off an existing closet and 'lo and behold, I've got my own personal work space. My desk isn't even a desk. It's a computer credenza. Lay two rulers end to end and one of them is falling off. Don't get me wrong - I wouldn't trade it for the world. It's my space. In Mommy Land this space is more valued than the bathroom at home. (read: my children cannot access this space. It is mine. It's all mine!)

I sit here for hours upon hours each week wondering if anyone knows my name. I've been called every name under the sun but mine: Heather, Rachael, Brittney. I had a meeting once with an attorney. A face-to-face meeting. As in I appeared before him in person. With no costume. And yet he referred to me in correspondence as Richard. And my therapist wonders why I have identity issues.

No one really knows or understands or cares to know or understand what I do at work. Big V will ask "so, how was work today?" and there's that little pause where I ask myself if he really wants me to explain how I researched the density debate, and what I argued regarding streetscape design, or how franchises can be considered a viable option for distressed areas and how communities don't have to sell out for oversized tacky buildings but rather impose design controls through ordinances to retain neighborhood character.

I lost you at density, didn't I? Don't worry, it happens all the time.

So you understand how unbelievably important lunch is, right? It's a topic I can talk to with anyone. Everyone. Heck, we all like to eat, right? Except for those crazy health fanatics that only eat kale and Sprouted Whole Grain Cereal and work out seven days a week, but I'm not really friends with those kind of people. Not because I have anything against them, it's just hanging around them makes me feel like a sloth. Or sloth-like. Which I suppose is essentially the same thing and basically means that spending time with really healthy active people reminds me that I want to take a nap.

But, lunch. Lunch! That is the purpose of my work day! The reason I wake up in the morning. The reason I can't get my hair done on a regular basis because I choose to spend my hard earned money on food regardless of our paycheck-to-paycheck status. But I digress (for the thirtieth time in this post....).

Today I had no idea where to go. It was one of those six-year old but I don't wanna figure it out kind of things. I had stopped off at our local deli located in the only grocery store in town and stared at the case. Chicken? Nope. Not doing it for me. Pot Roast? Nah. Potato Casserole? Not sure what that all entails, but it looks kind of greasy. Nothing was jumping out at me. That is until two of the coolest people in the world jumped out at me!

"Are you here for Taco Tuesday?"  "You've gotta try Taco Tuesday!"

What the heck is Taco Tuesday?


This is Taco Tuesday:

Two big ole' tacos filled to the brim with fresh lettuce, red juicy toamatoes, lots of cheese, and my second reason for living: sour cream. On my way back to the office I worried it wouldn't be enough to fill me up... then I saw the lights from Heaven beaming down on our local Burger King sign which called out to me in big, bold, block lettering: CINNABON CHEESECAKE and I decided that God, Himself, wanted to ensure I had a successful lunch experience, so I washed those two bad boys down with this little slice of heavenly sweetness:

Thank you, Jake and Heidi,
for making sure I made the right choice today.
Life is so good.


Brenna said…
I actually think your job sounds pretty cool and interesting, not, however, as awesome as Taco Tuesday. But I guess that's not helpful, huh?
Rebecca said…
I have lunch envy. Here I thought my daily low-carb turkey wrap out on a park bench was exciting. I now see the error of my ways.
Phoenix Rising said…
Thanks, Brenna! I don't think anything can top Taco Tuesday. Well, until the next great lunch thing comes along...

Becca: don't underestimate park benches. They can be totally thrilling.

Popular posts from this blog

The House that God Built

in·stan·ta·ne·ous /ˌinstənˈtānēəs/ adjective 1. occurring or done in an instant or instantly.
synonyms: immediate, instant, on-the-spot

The thing is, she died so sudden.
I didn't have the chance to plead with God, to make all the irrational promises. If he would just let her be okay.... I would start taking better care of my health. I would be nicer to the neighbor that drove me crazy. I would always let someone else go in front of me at Walmart no matter how long the line was. I wouldn't complain. Ever. I would volunteer at the Homeless Shelter. I would clean up after pigs. I would clip the toenails of the elderly. I would do anything and everything He would ask me to do....
There is a box on her death certificate that captures the amount of time between the initial injury and the time of death. It reads "seconds." I wish it read "instantaneous" because she deserves a clever word like that.
Fast forward five years.... definitely taking MUCH longer than "…

Seeing Avery All Grown Up

One day I'll tell you about the freezing cold we left and the heavy bags we lugged, full of supplies and medicines. I'll tell you about arriving in Port au Prince and walking across a cracked concrete parking lot to board an old school bus with a flat tire. How the heat was suffocating after months of below zero Wisconsin winter weather, how the people crowded and walked too close to moving traffic as we searched for a tire shop that was barely more than a couple men sitting on overturned 5-gallon buckets on the side of the road next to a pile of old tires, everything covered in dirt.

I'll tell you about waiting on the bus while they removed the tire and I'll recall the loud explosion that rocked the bus and scared the life out of me and how I was relieved to learn it was just the tire blowing after being filled too far. (They didn't have any gauges.) And then I'll tell you about the fear I felt when I realized we didn't have a tire and we were stuck on th…

When Your Imagined Life is Nothing Like This One

There were so many ways I imagined my adult life would be....THIS is not one of them.
I posted that on my Facebook wall last night. It might have been seen as funny except my choice of hashtags gave me away:
treading water getting nowhere piles of disappointment not many successes worn out and exhausted out of options

I always imagined my life would be thrilling. Full of exciting adventures and people from all over the world. I would dine at Ethiopian, Thai, and Indian restaurants. I would write books, teach English, coach forensics and direct the play. My husband would be charming and funny and not care about gender roles when it came to household chores. He would beg for at least six kids and I would fall in love with him all over again each time I caught him giving good life advice.
I would take photographs and travel the world documenting the people I came across. I would adopt a sibling group of three or maybe four and work on foster care policies because the ones we have aren't work…