|Photo credit: John Edge|
counts down until the moment they meet their soulmate. It focuses on two sisters. One sister isn't going to meet her guy until her mid 40s and decides to pass the intervening years in meaningless sex. The other has a blank timer because her soulmate hasn't gotten a timer yet. So she only dates guys without timers, and then she takes to get a timer implanted. And when he turns out not to be the one, she dumps him because there's no point in continuing the relationship. And that's just the set up for the film.
We have to date the wrong people before we're ready to date the right people. The choices we make lead us to where we are. And if we like where we are, then all those bad choices turned out OK after all.
There's a great song by Jill Sobule called Thank Misery. (It's not on the You Tubes, otherwise, I'd embed it here. But you can download the mp3.) The lyrics go, in part: If I hadn't been so depressed...If I hadn't been so blue/Thank misery for bringing me to you.
All that wasted time wasn't wasted after all.
With our failed adoption, I've been feeling lately like so much of our time has been wasted. We first got The Kid's social history a year and a half ago. We spent months working out the logistics that the agency should've known how to handle, then months visiting her. A year later, everything had fallen apart. Seven months after that, we're still not sure exactly when we'll be ready to try again. A year and a half to two years of my life will have been wasted by some incompetent social workers. Not completely wasted, but wasted in terms of our long quest to become parents.
As I recover from last year, I've thought about what I'd tell myself if I could travel to the past. I've actually imagined myself traveling back from the present during a big meeting with all the social workers, and getting younger me's attention so I can tell myself to make different decisions because things are heading the wrong way.
Just like my dating life in my 20s, I'm in the middle of things now, grieving and recovering, unable to see how things are ever going to work out. Or how I could've made that last sentence grammatically correct.
Will I ever feel that this particular wasted time wasn't wasted after all? Impossible to say from the middle of the story. I can see how my dating experiences helped me be ready for the great relationship I have with HA. But I can't imagine that last year prepared me to be some other kid's mother.
But you can never tell until you get there.
So what should we tell our younger selves? Invest in Apple?