Finding Normal

If there was a theme for my year it would be Finding Normal.  It is now September and I'm fairly sure that what I'm seeking isn't real.  I've lost all semblance of routine, my bad habits have blended with my good, I'm at times adventurous, but then also petrified, and I haven't been able to define the world around me for what seems like a very long time.

There are, of course, things that have stayed the same.  Those are the important things - family at the very top.  But a lot has changed and there is a slight chance that that change is happening from the inside of me out.  It's painful and startlingly unattractive.

On Saturday night, I was outside with the dogs (it's only Fiona and Snoopy now) and I looked at the dark sky and wished on a star.  It was a small thing, an old routine from my elementary days when I would wish for things like a tan and for my freckles to disappear.  In high school my wishes were all about boyfriends and grades.  And then I guess I just forgot about wishing.  It takes time...and faith.

"Star light, star bright..."  The routine starts with the poem.  That's important.

It was surprisingly relaxing.  Like stretching a muscle that hadn't been used in a while.

What did I wish for?  I'm not sure I believe that if you tell people your wishes they won't come true.  I'm a fan of the idea that the more you share your wishes the stronger they become.

I wished for less traffic, a patience alert button with an alarm that would go off before I reached the end of my rope, kind words that would bubble up instead of four-lettered ones, the ability to hear music over the sound of my hair dryer, an insta-tea machine with crushed ice balanced on the head of a robot playing the theme to Star Wars, better knees, a less aggressive digestive system, the ability to dance without making people laugh, stomach muscles, a new car, AND, finally, I wished people would respect each other's opinions...oh, and for bullies to disappear from the earth.

As I said, I hadn't wished on a star for a while.  Who knows when I'll manage it again.  Had to get it all in.  Too much?