I’m not really an envious person and I try to stay optimistic. I generally manage to have a glass-half-full outlook, although occasionally I lapse into glass-half-empty and every now and then I have one of those but-I-ordered-a-Coke-and-fries moments.
For a variety of reasons, by the time I got to Saturday evening I was feeling quite stressed. I’m telling you that so that you don’t judge me too harshly for what is coming next. Remember, I was a woman on the edge.
I decided to shake off my why-can’t-my-life-be-easier blues by visiting Facebook. A quick catch-up with my friends would surely put everything into perspective. Nothing like reading about toilet-training dramas, toddlers that won’t nap and renovation nightmares to remind me that things could be worse (such Schadenfreude is possible, of course, because my kids are past the toilet training and naps stage and we’re not renovating).
Instead of finding these everyday hassles, I came across a status update by a friend from primary school. Last I heard, she had five children and was working as a lecturer at Newcastle Uni and part-time lawyer. Did I mention she’s also gorgeous? It’s worth keeping that in mind.
My friend’s status update led me to her blog. My gorgeous, intelligent, successful friend with five children also has time for a blog. Quite an interesting and well written one, actually, so we can add creative to her list of admirable qualities.
What is her blog about? I’m glad you asked, because this is the point that pushed me over the edge from ‘oh, isn’t that nice’ to ‘This isn’t the life I signed up for. When’s the next train out of town?’ Her blog, since you’re being so insistent and totally disregarding the distress the subject causes me, is about how she is moving to the South West of France for a year with her partner and children.
In the cold light of day, I can be happy for this exciting opportunity that has come along for her and still be content with my own life. But in that brief moment when I read that she was preparing for an exciting sojourn in Europe, I gazed about at my avalanching ironing pile, craft-covered dining room table and yet to be unpacked bags of groceries and wished that I was about to jet off to somewhere exciting and exotic as well.
Please make me feel better about myself by telling me that you envy her as well. If I’m part of a crowd, I’ll be able to use that whole ‘mob mentality’ thing to excuse my bad attitude. Maybe we should all follow her blog Our House in Quercy and leave encouraging, thoughtful comments to compensate for our negative attitude (I’m already generalising my bad response to include you, so you might as well be part of the solution. That whole mob mentality concept really works, doesn’t it?).
If you could leave your life (but not your family) behind for a year, where would you go? I’d definitely end up in Europe, probably Germany. What about you?by