One Eyebrow Walking

My uncle likes to say if it wasn't for bad luck, I'd have no luck at all. I'm starting to believe there is truth to that statement.

I like to, however, believe that all strange circumstances without clear cut reasoning is all part of some grand plan by the Almighty to turn all the wrong turns I have made (darn that free will) into a better course of life.

But I digress.

Since I've turned 50 I have lost (not in any particular order):

1. My gallbladder (not my fault)
2. An eyebrow (totally my fault)
3. My home (a long story)
4. My car (an even longer story)
5. My Cat (God's decision not mine)
6. My Husband (God, His and My mutual meeting of the minds)
7. And now...my job (a very strange situation of which fault can fall to a number of people and then again to none.)

My recommendation is, "Don't turn 50!"

Aside from the gallbladder, which I deserved after years of consuming Buffalo Style Chicken wings at an alarming rate, the rest sort of snuck up on me. Well, I suppose I engineered the eyebrow. I got one of those little shaver things and was trimming my eyebrow (without using the little pink guards because after all everyone knows they don't DO anything) and buzzzz, off went my left eyebrow, much to my, not to mention my husband, and 250 guests at my nephew's wedding who saw me with one real eyebrow and one drawn eyebrow, dismay and shock.

The cat was a total shock. I received a phone call from my cat's foster mother (too long a story but suffuce to say they were NOT taken from the home by Cat Protective Services), that Gracie "had gone home to Glory." Now that statement in itself had me confused. Going home to Glory generally means to me, playing the harp upstairs with the big Man ,however, my sister had a dog named Glory who sadly passed on, so saying my cat is going home to Glory  could mean Gracie and Glory were hanging out in the All-Pet Heavenly Choir. But it seems strange that a cat would hang out with a dog, but after all IT IS HEAVEN, but I digress. Apparently her little cat heart just stopped and without little cat chargers and little cat cat scans and little cat cardiologists, I guess she was summoned home to Glory...or home to uh....Glory. Either way, the news wasn't good if you were Gracie.

The husband, car, and home were all part of the same bailiwick, none of which was planned, all of which was very sad. confusing and rather expensive. But now that the smoke has cleared, I can't tell you how many times a day I truly miss my SUV.

Which takes me now to the job. Months ago, I moved over 400 miles to a teenie, weenie town outside of Rochester to take this job. I have an adorable little home, right outside of the Barilla Pasta factory and down the road from the Animal Hospital (just in case I get another cat). The only problem with this job, which will remain cloaked in mystery for the duration of this post, is the town folk of this particular teenie, weenie place likes things that are familiar, normal and expected, qualities which I certainly don't and am fairly sure, have never possessed.

I am certain that when they hired me I was like the shiny new toy on Christmas Day: a novelty, a bright-colored whiz bang of something they had never seen the likes of before. But like certain toys you get on Christmas, odd colored, whiz bang novelties that bring with them an unusual amount of bells and whistles and are often considered too colorful or too noisy to use, I was given a variety of reasons why I just wasn't fitting in. These reasons seemed to make sense, much like the reasons and rules that parents refer to in the parent handbook, but in truth, it was a lot like the small print under a sweepstakes or the line under toys that say, batteries not included. It was a letdown to be sure.

I could go into specifics, which of course would be funny in many ways if it wasn't my life, but still, I have to laugh anyway. These past 9 months I have birthed a new appreciation for some of my past jobs and supervisors, learned more about myself than I thought I needed to, met some astonishingly honest and nice people who I will clearly miss, but was also reminded that playground bullies of childhood, if given their way, will often grow up to become adults who continue pushing people around in life if things do go the way they want.

All in all, the lessons learned were well worth the price of admission or moving in this case. And fortunately, I didn't have to go home to Glory (or home to uh..Glory) to gain the knowledge that I have now. Although seeing Gracie would have been nice (although she might not recognize me without my eyebrow)!