May 26, 2011 by wcobserver
When I started writing Serving the Burned Side Down I promised only one thing … “after reading about the loose operation that I call my life, you’re likely to feel better about your own.” It’s been a year since I said that … but I’m pretty sure I’ve delivered.
If you think I’m wrong … if you’re saying to yourself … “wow, that Grisham girl has it made … her life is like a barrel of monkeys … “well I’ll have to assume that you’re doing hard time … probably in solitary confinement.
Today was a perfect example of how “un-glamorous” my life really is. After six months of downtown living, where I got to share the joys of deafening music, college partiers and drunken 2 a.m. break-ups, I finally decided to relocate.
For most people that involves hiring a moving company or, at the very least, forcing a bunch of friends to help out for nothing more than beer and pizza. I don’t have money for the first option and I don’t have enough friends for the second … at least ones that can be conned into that kind of one-sided plan. So I hired one guy, borrowed a truck from work and together we moved an entire house worth’s of furniture.
If Martha Stewart had been making this move I’m sure she would have had things separated by room and color and relative level of fragility. But let’s face it, I’m closer to Rod Stewart than Martha Stewart. As we were getting to the tail end of things it started looking more like a trip to Sam’s Club than a move. There were no more boxes, I was just throwing things into my car. In one I was carrying frozen boxes of Steak-umms and popsicles. In the other I was carrying a small bowl covered in Saran wrap. It contained my last pair of contact lenses floating in about 10 drops of Visine. I would’ve had to throw them away, but luckily I found the Visine under the couch when we moved it. Like I said … it’s a loose operation.
But you know what … I made it. Things aren’t always pretty in my life and sometimes people think I’m a little crazy … like when they see me carrying all my silverware in a small plastic bag with the knives poking through the side. But ultimately, that’s all any of us are trying to do. We’re just trying to make it.
Some people do it with more certainty and planning. I do it with more style and flare. But if we cross the finish line, it doesn’t really matter how we get there.
Today I cut up strawberries in the same sink where I was soaking paint filled brushes; I transported 18 missing Lego pieces in my front pocket and I ate four partially frozen Bomb Pops in the seven-mile journey between my old house and my new house. But you know what? Through all of that, I was also truly happy.
I’ve spent a lot of years wishing I had the wear-with-all to put on a little more of a show … and perhaps be a little less of a sideshow. But in this year of changes I’ve learned to really like this “loose operation” I’m calling my life. It may be unpredictable but it’s always fun, colorful … and full of Bomb Pops.