Well, to recap the events of this week so far, LinkedIn has finally decided that I am, in fact, actually me, which means I now have access to my own profile again. Progress! I’ve started updating it, although I’m still trying to figure out exactly what I want to share and, perhaps more importantly, what I’m actually looking for when it comes to future employment. Apparently, “I’m bored and would like a little more excitement in my professional life” isn’t really a good LinkedIn headline.
I also survived dinner with the in-laws last night, and honestly, it went pretty much exactly as I expected. There were no major blowups, although that would probably require them to openly acknowledge that there is tension, and they’re much too passive-aggressive for anything that straightforward. Instead, when my husband was in the room, they were on their best and most personable behavior. Then, the second he left the room, I essentially ceased to exist. No conversation, no acknowledgment, nothing. I’m not entirely sure what that says about me, but I have to admit I’ll take being ignored over fake friendliness any day. At least then we all know where we stand.
We also had a crawfish boil last night, which isn’t exactly my favorite meal in the world, but it’s easy to make and everyone else enjoys it, so I’m willing to suffer for the greater good. I actually wish I would have taken pictures because, once everything is spread out on the table, it looks surprisingly impressive. Unfortunately, I apparently temporarily forgot that I have a blog and should probably be documenting my life for the internet.
However, I did remember to save all of the lemon and orange peels from the boil because supposedly skunks hate the smell of citrus. So there I was last night, standing behind the shop and throwing citrus peels into what we lovingly refer to as “the jungle,” which is really just a severely overgrown part of our property that no one has dared to walk through since I spotted a rattlesnake in there last spring. It is also, conveniently, the area where I believe Mama and Papa Skunk have decided to set up residence.
As I stood there in the 90-degree heat, I couldn’t help but have one of those moments where you stop and think, Apparently, this is my life at 40.
Standing in muck boots and sweatpants on a concrete pad, throwing lemon and orange peels into an overgrown jungle in hopes of convincing a family of skunks to relocate, all while trying very hard not to get sprayed, is not exactly the glamorous existence I pictured for myself.
Then again, maybe this is what they mean when they tell you to embrace the little things.
Because while my life certainly isn’t perfect, and it occasionally involves more wildlife encounters than I feel is necessary, I really am incredibly grateful for it. I have a family I love, a nice home, work that has given me a lot, and a life that, even when it’s chaotic and slightly ridiculous, is pretty darn good.
It may not be glamorous, but apparently at 40, this is what happiness looks like: muck boots, sweatpants, citrus peels, and trying not to get sprayed by a skunk.