The stories we tell ourselves
Learning to Tell the Right Story
I'm sorry to report that this week has been far less dramatic than when I last checked in. I spent much of it figuring out what to do about my soggy old laptop. It turns out it was going to cost about $700 to fix my 6yo unit, so I ended up buying a new one instead. Of course, once you added the Office suite, Apple Protection and a bigger storage situation, it was not cheap but shout out to Best Buy's interest free credit card (and my girlfriend who suggested it). I now have 24 months to pay the thing off AND I cannot tell you how luxurious it is to work on a computer that doesn't take 2 minutes to load a page or insists on sending dire messages about full storage on the reg.
Another thing that has eaten up time this week is watching videos on YouTube of people singing songs from Stephen Sondheim's musical Company. Adam Driver sings one of the songs at the end of the new movie Marriage Story, which was like a punch in the gut for me and got me thinking about love and relationships and just "Being Alive" (which happens to be the name of the song).
I took my dog for a hike yesterday in the woods and the conditions were perfect. I love being outside, moving around, when it's freezing cold and there was still snow covering the ground but the dirt path was completely clear. We parked at the bottom of the hill and my dog dragged me along the trail and as we made it to the top of a steep incline, I made him stop so I could pull a small notebook out of a wooden box nailed to a fallen tree. The box has been there for a few years and on the cover, someone had painted "Leave Your Thoughts, Hopes, Dreams," and inside is a notebook and some pens for people to do just that. I will stop and sit on the tree from time to time and leaf through and am always moved by what people write. That they're praying for sick loved ones or struggling to make sense of this world.
I've added my own thoughts over the years. Most recently, I wrote something about turning 53 this summer as I took a birthday hike. Yesterday, I pulled the book out to find the back cover had fallen off and the pages inside were full of thoughts, hopes and dreams. But I felt like I needed to add my own.
So at the very bottom of the last page, I added the date and two words: Being alive. And it made me happy.
I wrote a bunch about the magical gift of getting dumped and wanting to be alive, which you can read on my website.
My therapist is going to be so proud of the story I am telling not just to you, but to myself.
In the meantime, here are some things that have caught my attention when not watching showtunes on YouTube.
Enjoy your Friday!
xoAmy
This article totally made me want to get another dog and call him Tater Tot, Dr. Farts or Kevin.
Just when I didn't think there was anything else I could worry about when flying, I read about this. Wtf.
I saw this sticker on a car a few weeks ago and snapped a pic to send to my daughters who were like, "Gross." But it still cracks me up.
