Change
I don't like change. It seems to me that change is rarely for the better. When someone tells you that things are going to change, trust me, it's a threat.
There is much in my life over which I have little or no control. Because of this, it is more important then ever that I retain control over things I can control.
In my sunroom, I have a couch where I sit. I have angled the television so that I have the perfect viewing area. I have aimed the surround sound so that I sit right in the sweet spot. Next to where I sit I have set up a table with a lamp and plenty of room for a cocktail and some munchies. It is perfect because I have made it so. It is my retreat. It is my safe place.
Not so long ago I came home, poured myself a little Blanton’s bourbon, got some crackers and cheese, and went to the sunroom to relax, read my book, and watch TV.
When I got to the sunroom, a wave of dizziness hit me. I grew short of breath and my knees buckled. Every single thing in the sunroom had been moved! My brow furrowed, my eyes narrowed, and only one word occurred to me: Louise.
“Louise? What happened to the sunroom?”
“Nothing, darling. It’s still there.”
“But everything's been moved. Everything’s different.”
“Of course it is.”
“But why?”
“Because I got bored with it, so I changed it.”
May He (or She) Who Is All Things to All People save you from a woman who is bored. I have now grown accustomed to the “new” sunroom … except for one thing. I've finally settled in, reset the TV, and fixed the sound, and now I live in mortal fear that she's going to get bored again and my little world won't be the same again.
I like to cook, so one day not long ago I went to get some flour from the cupboard. When I opened the cupboard, there was only Tupperware in there. Wait, I thought; this is where I keep all my baking stuff, not Tupperware.
“Louise? Where is the flour? It's not in the cupboard.”
“The flour doesn't live there anymore.”
Okay, I'll play along. “Well, where does the flour live now? In the Tupperware cabinet?”
“No, silly, in the pantry.”
“But the pantry is at the other end of the kitchen. It will take at least six more steps each way when I need flour.”
“Yes, my darling, but you need more exercise and it's good for your heart.”
I haven't baked since she moved my flour.
The Lovely Louise gets bored easily. When she does, my world gets turned upside down. Remember when she got bored while watching TV and booked us a trip to Cuba? I can tell when she's bored because she starts talking about how we need to travel somewhere. Right now, her dream seems to be either exploring New England or taking a trip around Asia on a clipper ship. I'm hoping for the New England thing, but I wouldn't bet any money on it.
I won't bother listing all the things in my life that have changed since I met the Lovely Louise, but I'm slowly learning to just take a deep breath and go with it. She says all the change keeps me from becoming a Mr. Grumpy Pants. I'm not even sure what that is, but it doesn't sound like something I want to be, and so I shall sleep with one eye open, constantly on the alert for upcoming changes.
Please don't tell Louise, but somewhere deep inside, I kind of like it.
