I’ve got ten minutes to write this, according to today’s writing challenge. I’ve been watching a lot of the Sopranos with Mr. S and we did view the Godfather while home with the family for Thanksgiving. So, here goes.
I fell in love with Mr. S the moment he started talking to me. It wasn’t that deep, everlasting love at first. Obviously. But I was totally into him. And when he asked me to be his girlfriend ten days after we met, that was it. The offer I couldn’t refuse.
Then, a little over a year later (literally, about 10 days after our anniversary) he asked me to marry him. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. And it had become that deep, everlasting love sort of thing. I kept thinking about how lucky I was to get him. And then, two years later, we finally got married. And I’ve never been happier and so far, haven’t looked back. We’re coming up on a measly three months of marriage and I couldn’t imagine my life without him. Honeymoon phase? Perhaps. But the thing is, we got back to our bickering and typical sarcastic, dry remarks to one another about two weeks after getting back from our Honeymoon trip to Napa Valley. Honestly, we argued a bit on the actual trip as well. You really can’t spend an entire week with no one but one person and have everything be perfect, blissful joy. Especially if plane travel is involved. And three stops along the way to the actual place. And having to wake up at 4am to get to the airport. Twice.
This is not the only offer I couldn’t refuse. When I was offered my current job, I jumped at it. Why not? I was working at Macy’s and pretty much completely miserable after a year and a half. I loved my coworkers and 9 months out of the year, it wasn’t a difficult job. I was just so bored. And sick of people treating me like I was a total idiot. I had my degree and I was working toward my Paralegal certificate at another school. And here I was, being addressed like I was a total failure. Most of my coworkers were also working on their degrees at University. The ones who weren’t? They weren’t idiots, either. These people could calculate your change and your tax without even blinking. They could count money faster than your stereotypical “Jewish banker.” And they knew so many details about the clothes. They could tell you which jeans ran long, which ones wouldn’t shrink in the wash, and they could tell you which kinds of clothes your loved one might like based on age and their style. These people also were very intelligent. They could debate philosophy and religion and politics without the “formal” education I was privileged enough to receive.
But I had to get out of there. And sometimes, I do wish I still worked at Macy’s. There’s no shame in it, really. If it weren’t for the evil customers, then everything would have been absolutely perfect. And my time is just about up, so let me wrap up by saying I made some good choices accepting the three offers I couldn’t refuse. As if I really had a choice in the long-term, anyway. (Ok, I did, but my life has gone in a much better direction since then.)