Being Maureen

I am inexplicably happy right now – keyword inexplicably. I really don’t know why I feel happy. But I do. So I’m going with it.

Yesterday I discovered a TV show called Being Erica. I am now recording the series. Erica goes back in time throughout her life. She gets do-overs. Sometimes the do-overs end well and other times they do not. Erica is only 33. I must be a slow learner.

I enjoy hearing another woman say the things I am feeling. I’m watching the same episode I watched this morning. Pathetic? No. Kindred spirit-like.

My dear darlings left to watch football elsewhere. Yay! And I had my living room all to myself – a rarity around here. If I have learned anything in the past few years it is that I absolutely, positively crave time alone. Being stuck in a house filled with five men does not make for a happy me. This realization hit me some time ago and I take measures to recognize the “I am going crazy” signs, and then do something about it.

Case in point: This morning after Mass I wanted to accomplish something. I shut the door to my bedroom, cranked the radio and began cleaning my room. In walks hubby. It seems he was cold. I declare what I am doing in no uncertain terms. He lay on the bed. On the bed! I knew he’d be asleep in seconds. Solitude obliterated.

Smothering him with a pillow would have wrecked my day. A song played about going with the flow. I unplugged and grabbed the radio leaving the bedroom to the interloper. I washed dishes.

Then came the most happy news that my boys were leaving! God gave me my living room. A movie and another episode of Being Erica and I am happy. Dinner’s in the oven, I’m not facing a life sentence for smothering my husband, and I didn’t alienate my children by screaming at them; the kiddies simply left.

Life is good (for the moment).