When I was in my twenties, I didn’t truly feel alive unless there was lots of drama around me. Unless my life was just teeming with drama. It made life seem exciting and interesting. Now…not so much.
In fact, if I spend the rest of my life drama-less I’ll be one happy camper. I’ve had more drama than a leather-bound set of Shakespeareian plays on crack, lately. If it’s not one thing, it’s another.
A couple of weeks ago, my sister came to stay with me for a few days. Her friend Marlene came by my house a couple hours before we were to pick up my sister at the airport and we sat around talking. I hadn’t seen Marlene for a few months and so she asked the dreaded question, “So, what’s been going on with you? Why did you move and then come back?”
I shook my head and went into what I hoped was the Reader’s Digest version of my bizarro life for the last year – poor Marlene tried very hard not to laugh but finally bust a gut, apologizing all the while. I laughed too because it was funny. It really was the tale of a very poorly plotted soap opera or sit-com. I mean, truly you can’t make stuff like this up – unfortunately.
It gave me pause after telling the story. I thought, jeez what a freek show you’ve become and I further thought – I don’t want to be a freek show anymore. And I don’t know, a switch clicked or the screw turned or something and I realized while drama was once the bread and butter of my existence, that that changed a long time ago.
That in fact, I don’t like drama – not even a little bit (well, except for my favorite television shows). That really life is too short and there are so many great things in life to be interested in, participate in and partake of that you really don’t need it at all.
So, I’m packing up my drama queen clothes and shipping them off to the thrift store. I’ll miss them from time to time but really they just don’t fit any more.