As drive-in theaters no longer beckon down the road, we find ourselves in the grass for another night of movie-watching in the yard. Oh, how I miss those nostalgic nights at the drive-in, like the time I squeezed into the back seat of my Mom’s ’89 Buick Century to watch Coneheads. My brother and I had to jockey for a better view, and we got in trouble for it, but the memories linger fondly.
Wall texturing has become my nemesis, and I’m filled with frustration. “Just practice on cardboard first,” they say, but my attempts resemble the chaotic splatters in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory’s malfunctioning soap machine. After wiping the yucky gunky dobs off the wall, a few “close enough” sprays were all I managed before seeking solace to shed a tear here.
Am I truly as selfish as my inner critic claims? Uncertain, I turn to Dave for guidance. His kind words of sympathy reassure me and counterbalance the critical thoughts swirling within.
As I complete the final tasks around home – feeding the ducks, paying car tabs, bringing work plants home, and packing our suitcases – the sense of freedom grows, yet an unsettling feeling lingers. A nagging thought, “What am I missing?” occupies my mind, but I know, in the end, it will all work out, as it always does.
All day it’s like I’m one step ahead of myself, as if a part of me pulls forward, urging me onward. Yet, another part tugs back, wanting to savor each moment. How do I find harmony between these two sides of myself?
Perhaps, they both need their respective time and space – moments of go, go, go, and moments of sit, sit, sit. Each aspect complements the other, like the ebb and flow of life’s rhythms, creating a dance of energy and tranquility.
Well, I hear popcorn popping. It’s almost time for our featured presentation of Disney’s “Raya and the Last Dragon.”
I’ll see you tomorrow. Love, Jaclynn
Going On 40 