Today my husband and I celebrate 9 years of wedded bliss. He took the day off work and we planned on a relaxing air-conditioning-cooled day of leisurely perusing Cezanne and other masters of post-impressionist work on installation at the city art museum. We commenced our day with a trip to the doctor to see about my now 5-day migraine. I got a shot and was given a prescription and we set out to enjoy our anniversary. But first there was the big fight over how fearful of the next thunderbolt to hit our lives we are, how my headache is making him feel that after so long and so much struggle I was just going to get sick all over again. We talked about how much dysfunction we still possess from our respective families of origin and how badly my disease and the choices we have had to make because of it have fucked us up. He poured out his fears and remorse and I hurled at him my determination for a better tomorrow and undying love.
We talked it through and calmed ourselves down, deciding to venture on, go see that drop of culture so badly missing from our daily lives despite holding such prominence in our psyches. But as we approached the museum we discovered it was closed! I live in a major metropolitan city and the museum thinks it can take both Monday and Tuesday off? Preposterous! So we dejectedly piled ourselves into the truck, heading back toward home, not really sure what to do with ourselves or how to make the day fun and special. And then I saw it...looming ahead in its city-block long chipped-yellow-paint glory...Mo' Money Pawn Shop! We went in and meandered down aisle after aisle of glimmering and sparkling gems and precious metals, purchased with so many hopes and dreams and sold in such desperation. I speculated about the story behind each piece, what tale it told. We enjoyed admiring beautifully engraved pistols and skipped past rows and rows of appliances, electronics and tools. We tumbled out into the blazing sunshine laughing and back on track. The experience had lightened our load, revived our perspective. We went on to enjoy a wonderfully luxurious lunch (where I discovered a drink called Retail Therapy that alone made the whole experience worth it) and spent the rest of the day shopping and relaxing. It was fun, mellow and low key, but the biggest point of difference is that we did not let our mood or fears or a thump in our plans ruin our day. We dusted off that long-forgotten virtue of spontaneity that has been hidden back in the deep, dark recesses and forged on to make year number 9 better than ever.
Thanks for joining,
Leah
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