Claire, the Amazing Tightrope Walker

Today I'm pondering the question how responsible are we for our significant others happiness? I'm not talking about taking out the garbage, I'm talking about the inner peace, Zen, I've arrived thing.

For some reason my happiness is directly connected to my career choices. And I've made a few really bad ones over the years, therefore I'm not feeling that inner peace man. And what brought this on is stupid. I made Bobby a deal. On this vacation, he'll pay for food and shelter and I'll pay for the bells and whistles. And it's driving me insane that I'd had a slow month so we're looking at rusted bells and mini-whistles.

The sad part is they didn't know I was planning to shower them with trips to amusement parks and water parks, And other stuff… like… I sorta cannot think of anything but trust me, it was a long list of over expensive crap I wanted to do with my boys, Damnit. The irony of my pain of not being able to do all the touristy things is Bobby hates everything I mentioned above. He's probably thanking the ebay gods I had a sucky month.

Maybe it's the beginning of my mid-life crisis. Maybe it's because I have three friends in the hospital. I'm not talking about a friend of a friend. I mean three people I have direct connections to. And life feels too short to pout over something I intellectually understand, I had no control over, I'm thinking I need a career over haul.

So that's it, as soon as we get back from vacation I'm joining the circus and becoming a tight rope walker. Dang, I feel better all ready. Yes, I'm still taking those little green Nyquil pills.

Ok, maybe not a tight rope walker but at least I'm opening myself up to other careers. There must be thousands of jobs for a smart-ass, cerebral palsy, blurred speech, bitch like me. And when I find it, I'll support my honey, send him back to school so he could become a history professor with those sexy elbow pads. And I'll be the responsible bread winner for once.

Bob, you're turning blue… Breathe baby breathe.