"Face reality as it is, not as it was or as you wish it to be."
Anonymous
Reality bites. It's a lesson I've been taught many times, but this time provided a PhD education that I'll never forget.
It started one of those days when absolutely nothing went right. I overslept, wrecked my car trying to make it to work on time only to find out that I was being laid off. Then my boyfriend at the time took me out for a romantic dinner at an expensive restaurant...and told me that he thought we should see other people, before divulging that he'd already been seeing a nice lady from church. He offered to take me home and the only response I gave him was a strong bird in his face. So I called Uber and had to wait nearly forty-five minutes before the driver showed up in a sub compact. All the way home he was on the phone fighting with his wife about the bills and kids. I was never so glad to get out of a car in my life. But just as he sped away a creep appeared out of nowhere, grabbed my purse, and disappeared.
At that point, I just stared into space for a minute before breaking out in hysterical laughter. If the creep thought he was getting money and credit cards, boy was he in for a surprise. For inside the purse were a pack of tissues, a bus pass, four lint covered mints, and a tampon. I always kept my wallet on my person along with my house keys. I thumbed my nose in his general direction. Knock yourself out, buddy!
So I dragged myself up the steps to my walk up studio apartment and collapsed on the daybed that also served as my sofa. On the other side of the wall the neighbors were bickering again with their little yip-yip dogs yapping in accompaniment. Inside I was in turmoil. Emotions rolled like marbles running downhill but I couldn't seem to find a release for them. Tension made the back of my neck and head feel as if they were made of iron and my gut was threatening to jettison what little of the cordon bleu I'd eaten before my boyfriend dropped the bomb. Or rather dropped me. The only relief I could find was to curl up into a fetal position and allow the Elysian mists to take me far away...
I awoke to a bright sunny day. Birds were singing outside my open bedroom window and there was a the delicious aroma of frying bacon and baking biscuits on the air.
Wait a minute! A bedroom?
Sitting up I looked around, stupefied, for I had awoke in the bedroom I'd always dreamed of having. I was lying in a massive four poster on fine Egyptian bedding in soft shades of peach and ivory. Lace covered the open windows and wafted gently on a fresh breeze.
Looking down I found I was wearing a sexy little teddy. I also found that I was about twenty pounds lighter with curves where I'd never had curves before. What the...?
A soft knock interrupted my confusion before a uniformed, large, middle-aged woman with a massive bosom and unlikely jet black hair entered bearing a tray. My appreciation for high-end china assured me the dishes were Noritake.
“Good morning, madam. Where would you like your breakfast?”
“Uh...”
“The mister said I was to serve you in bed if you were so inclined.”
“The mister?”
“Yes'm. Just before he left for work. Said it was the anniversary of the first time he laid eyes on you and you deserved something for all the happiness he's known since.”
“He did?”
“Yes'm.”
The woman crossed to the bed and set the tray across my lap. The plate held three crisp strips of bacon, two eggs, and a biscuit, along with a small glass of orange juice and a cup of coffee. My favorite breakfast. There was even a small bowl of strawberry jam, along with an elegant cloth napkin and heavy silver flatware.
Had I died and gone to heaven?
Over the days that followed, I decided I had, for suddenly my life was perfect. I had the perfect home, the perfect husband, the perfect job, the perfect everything. At first it was intoxicating and I reveled in it. I could do no wrong because there was nothing I could do to screw things up. What I wanted I received, often without actually asking for it. It was as if I was being catered to by invisible servants who were privy to my every thought and wish. My every dream, my every desire was made manifest with but a thought.
And I quickly grew hideously bored with it, for there was no sense of satisfaction from having earned my rewards. There were no bumps in life to keep things interesting or to breed appreciation for the gifts that they were. Everything flowed like a serene river, running with a glass-like surface free of stones and debris. One morning I found myself screaming into my pillow after yet another night of perfect lovemaking. Couldn't he do anything wrong? Just once? Just to be less predictable?
I found myself wishing for the life I'd had before. A life filled with ups and downs, and good and not so good. A life with an endless kaleidoscope of experiences that kept me on my toes and invested in day to day living.
I knew that I'd reached the limits of my tolerance for perfection when I found myself walking down the street at dusk holding several hundred dollars in my hands without anyone noticing, just to see if anyone would. Where was a good mugger when you needed one?
That night I went to bed in my perfect bedroom with my perfect husband by my side and prayed that I'd wake up alone in my less than perfect studio apartment with the noisy neighbors and their barking dogs. I wanted to go home.
The blare of an air horn followed by a crash startled me from a deep sleep. As the sounds of a heated, cussing argument, and the scents of burning rubber and exhaust filtered through my sluggish mind, it gradually occurred to me that I was no longer in that Utopian world. Through the wall I heard the neighbors begin to bicker, as always accompanied by their little yip-yip dogs. A silly grin curled my lips as I stretched luxuriously on my less than perfect bed. I was home again.
A different direction for you, but a very good one. There's a real lesson in this. We should think about what we wish for… we might get it and regret it.
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