I forgot to make note of my moved-to-Sweden anniversary until I was reminded by blue_eyed_girl‘s post today. I moved here on January 11th, 1997. Anders has already arrived a week earlier and the day before I got here, his sister had a baby boy, who celebrated his fourteenth birthday last week. Crazy how time flies.
With the 14 years in Sweden and the 6 years I lived overseas as a child, I’ve now spent 20 years of my life overseas. I figured out in the car on the way back from the birthday dinner for Henrik that in another six years, I will have spent HALF my life overseas. So when I’m…29, we’ll have a big party, okay? haha!
Yesterday, in the course of some conversation whose repartee (no doubt witty) I can’t recall, Martin retorted to something I asked him, with the comment, “I don’t know, I don’t speak OLD.” which cracked me up. Of course he doesn’t! Who does? ME, that’s who. Some days I really feel my age, which to be honest, isn’t all that advanced on the one hand, but on the other hand, wasn’t I HIS age just a moment ago? Wasn’t I just meeting Becky in Mr Davis’ English class and drawing comics on reams of lined notebook paper? Conversely, didn’t I just get here? How can it feel like ages have passed and no time at all in the same moment?
All the people I’ve been are still inside me, somewhere: the child, the military brat, the teenager, the college student. The young woman, the neophyte career girl, the single gal, the fiancee, the newlywed, the new mom. They’re not lost, exactly…not GONE, but it takes longer to summon them these days and replay some of the things I once thought and felt. It takes more effort to leap high enough to see out of this life-rut I’ve been slowly eroding downwards into. I think I’m overdue for a shake-up, though writing that feels like extending a hand to fate and daring it grab hold and yank.
I don’t mean shake-up in a bad way, just that I think it’s time to do some housecleaning…in my brain, in my life, in my attitudes and most especially, in my comfort zone. Mmmm comfort zone!
The thing is, I LIKE my life. I don’t want it to CHANGE, exactly, just to add something to it. I’m not really interested in looking for a new job. Maybe I should take a class. Maybe I should travel somewhere I’ve never been. I don’t think rearranging the living room takes things far enough, though there are things I WON’T do for a shake-up.
Things I won’t do for a shake-up: have an affair, move house, commit a crime, have a baby, quit blogging (*smile*).
What would you do? What’s outside that rut of yours?
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Smutty Rutty Silly Putty Birthday Wishes to somebodystrange! (hahaha! I don’t know, it just sounded funny!)