This weekend, Hubby and I will celebrate the 10th anniversary of having been graduated by Georgetown University (syntax is all for you, Matter-Eater Lad). Truth be told, we're not doing anything fantabulous to commemorate all the pomp and circumstance of our respective Bachelor's degrees. Just a brunch in the District with former classmates with whom we speak regularly, without the aid of university-sponsored alumni events. There will be nary a blue and gray balloon in sight.
Ultimately, I'm left wondering why I'm not taking this opportunity to pause and reflect on what's transpired in the past 10 years: marriage, children, death, debt, new jobs, lay-offs, taxes, education, bombs, houses, and discerning the best fix-it folks in town. I guess it's 'cause I'm not unique in going through these things. What am I going to say about them that hasn't been said? And who's got the time? I've got meatloaf to mix, a conversation to have with a friend who's stressing about some personal issues, and a couple of kids to shove in the tub before bed time. You would be AMAZED at how sweaty an almost-three-year-old gets when he's just kicking a ball around the house. The Boy may, in fact, have a glandular problem. Add having that checked out to the list of things to do in the next millenia.
But I don't feel like I'm living an unexamined life. Not at all. This blog probably helps. And having a spouse who helps me unpack emotional baggage is pretty handy too. Of course, it helps that I am a tower of good sense and emotional health. And ego.
Pfah. I guess I'm feeling like Debi from Grosse Pointe Blank:
"Everybody's coming back to take stock of their lives. You know what I say? Leave your livestock alone."
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