Downers
The other day, a guy made a kissing noise at me from his car. Then I crossed the street and saw a man peeing in a phone booth. Life is full of ups and downs.
Or two downs in a row.
Just when you think you’re a smart, independent woman, someone tells you for the third time in a week to, “watch your bag because someone might steal it.” I know I look dumb, but come on...
Then you get upsetting news about friends, and then important plans you had fell through, and then your apartment gets swarmed with cockroaches + their demon spawn, and then your window decides to jump ship onto your couch, and then you get a “maybe” eye infection that parlays into a “definitely” sinus cold, and then, and then, and then… [takes deep breath]
You have a lot of downs in a row.
On top of it all, the city is ruthless. It pities no one. Even on your deathbed, you get purses jabbed between your ribs. And you still have to stand that 100-degree subway car as it stalls in the station for 20+ minutes (read: severe back sweat), and you still get dirty looks from the cashier as you try to buy ice cream too close to closing, and you still don’t understand her as she badmouths you in Spanish, and you still feel like trash when you finish the entire container in record time, and you still, and you still, and you still… [closes eyes and regroups]
…have to deal with it.
Life doesn’t stop because yours sucks. You hear that? Just because you lost your apartment keys doesn’t mean you can scream at the salad lady when she forgets to add extra craisins in your Spring mix. Calmly ask for more. Or ask for a $.50 refund, you cheapskate. Your keys are lost, but the world keeps spinning. And the rest of the Midtown degenerates behind you still get their $9 spinach bowls.
A few weeks ago, I “lost my keys” multiple times. Murphy and his Law bit me in the Irish backside. A baby vomited on the white T-shirt of my life. You get the picture: It wasn’t the easiest (or cleanest) time I’ve ever had. And honestly, not much has changed since then.
Life sucks. The End.
Juuuuuust kidding. While my circumstances haven’t really improved, my outlook has. I realized, while eating my second cookie of the night, that it’s the salt that makes the sugar cookie shine. When isolated, tough situations are hard to palate. They’re bitter and leave you dehydrated (or maybe that’s just the salt). But in context of sweeter things, the salt adds a necessary complexity to life. The salt makes you more grateful for every sprinkle.
Are we sick of this analogy yet? [Takes a break to eat 3rd cookie to really bring this illustration home]
What I realized from my salty, biting, vomiting week is that I have a lot to be thankful for. At least I have an apartment for cockroaches to swarm. And at least I have eyes to get infected (which, for the record, are healed - so stare all you want, boys). Plus, my crappy week gave me an excuse to get my apartment in order and deepen my relationships with old friends.
My life is richer because it was salty.
So what your “keys are lost” this week? You can’t wait for people to pity you. You’re a smart, independent woman who hasn’t had her bag stolen yet. AMIRIGHT? You need to take this week to reprioritize, shift bad habits and be patient with the people who need it the most. But most importantly, you need to be thankful. And enjoy the salt of life.