Why Me, God?

Everyone has a bad day. A long time ago, I subscribed to the idea that I didn't have to succumb to my moods and that I could just CHOOSE to be happy. That works most of the days... but some days, you just deserve a day to say, Why Me God?

I always said that I have better even than odd years. The beginning of this 2007 has not exactly proven me wrong. I did once have a good 2005, so I suppose that alone might prove this theory of mine wrong. However, I'll concede that it's the exception to the rule since somewhere along the line it's led to a crappy 2007. But, you know, I don't have time to sit around and replay moments and soundtracks and things I could've said and done differently. I don't have time to sit around and play the what-if game. What if I asked what he wanted; What if we talked about things and communicated instead of just walking away from the highway pileup, disheveled and in shock. What if I hadn't have trusted someone enough to believe everything would be alright when I left my job to plan a wedding and marry the military and prepare to set out on the greatest adventure my life has known to date?

But like I said, I don't have time to lose my religion in my bedroom with candles a flicker and some awful cacophony of music and lyrics blaring from my laptop speakers.

Any rejection can sometimes seem like the same rejection all over again. When I interviewed with the prospective company last week, their interest level was an absolute 10. They called me back to interview with my would-be boss on Friday and we met and had an interesting connection to art and even heartache. She had a broken engagement, too. I didn't even make it to the deli to meet my grandmother for lunch when the would-be boss called me back and said she loved me and asked if I would be interested in doing a little take home project to show my skills. Of course, I agreed and I turned it in before Monday morning, as asked.

In the first interview, they said they'd make a decision on Tuesday or Wednesday of this week. Naturally, I figured I would hear something after I sent the test project, but it's now Friday and NOT ONE E-MAIL or CALL from the company.

It's like waiting (I mean, not waiting) for a boyfriend to call you back. You start rearranging the clothes in your closet by color and style; cleaning the tiles in your bathroom with Clorox clean up and an old toothbrush; checking your e-mail every other minute and running to your phone to look for a missed call if you go to the bathroom, take a shower, or get the mail. Cause you know, you're not waiting...

You walk a fine line between being interested and just plain desperate.

I decide I will wait until Friday to e-mail the company. It seems like a good balance between overzealous desperate stalker and hey, I was just going through my things and found your business card and casually remembered we met last week, so how about it?

But I had the whole rest of the day yesterday to think about: Why didn't these people LOVE me? Why didn't they call me back yet? Maybe they really love me but just had some huge accounts drop in their lap. Maybe they've been meaning to call but they lost their cell phones or they had to go out of town because their great aunt Myrtle died.

Mostly, I think, WHY ME GOD? Why can't I just get a break? Haven't I been through enough this year? Can't I just get back on my feet finally?

I put on my workout clothes and couldn't even muster up the energy to take my dog for a decent walk. So I plopped myself on the couch and turned on the TV to Dr. Phil. He's interviewing this woman who has one normal daughter and a set of triplets that were born deaf and blind. Her first husband left her because he couldn't handle the heavy load and her second husband, who knew fully what he was getting into, was also ready to leave her, too. She's dealing with a broken marriage and three broken children.

I thought about the inability to see the world for all of its colors or to not hear even its most precious or aggravating sounds. I started to think about the poor girl in Ohio whose husband killed her and her unborn 9 month old baby; the young girl in Iowa that was leaving the Target and never came home; the woman who was killed by her deranged wrestler husband who then smothered his young son and killed himself. All of these images ebb and flow like a glowing kaleidescope and for one moment, I don't ask Why Me God?

People can say all they want to about those crappy daytime talk shows, the news sensationalizing Paris Hilton in jail or a runaway bride who turns up somewhere in Mexico. But the truth is, most of these stories, as different as they are, allow us moments to step out of the details of our own lives. And while some may be less grounded, I think some of us end up a lot more human.