Honest Cookies

So you know when you get to work on a Monday and everyone's like:

Hey! How was your weekend?

And you're like: 

Great--how was yours?

Yeah. I'm just going to just be honest right now. It was not a good weekend. The weekend had some really wonderful moments and I'm glad the weekend happened. It definitely...moved my life forward...? But overall, it was not a good weekend. And here is why.

Being a grownup is really fucking hard. Why does no one TELL you this? 

The only thing close to it is when you're in college and all the adults shake their heads at you and cluck-cluck like head-shaking hens and say: Enjoy this time. It's the best time in your life. 

And you just stare at them, because really, college isn't all that great. It's better than high school, but not only are you trying to figure out who you are, you're also trying to figure out what you want to DO. Oh, and who you might want to do it with--but the guys all look like this:

 And you're also trying to party a respectable amount (but not too much) so you have a friend or two but you really kinda despise every second of the Thursday-Saturday sweaty body beery thumping party thing. 

So when the head-shaking hens just smile at you and tell you to enjoy THAT, you're just thinking they're old and wistful and don't have a clue. So what they SHOULD have said was (and what I'm saying to all my college-aged buddies is): 

Listen to me! All you have to worry about right now is getting up for class. That is a gift. It gets a lot--a lot--harder. Remember that when you're running to get into brunch at 12:59 pm. That beats figuring out how to pay for new gutters and get to daycare on time on .5 gallons of gas when your bathroom walls are moldy and your best friend is mad at you but you can't deal with it because you have to call a client as you make lunches for the next day and fold laundry with your feet. 

No one really ever says this. Everyone just says:

Great--how was yours?

What are we so afraid of? I'm beginning to wonder if all of this would be easier if we all told the ugly truth. Would it be ugly if everyone was just honest? So here it is. 

THIS IS HARD. 

And all I can do is get through each day, one by one. 

And be so, so very grateful for the people holding my hands. Especially the little sticky hand holding my hand, and the great guy holding her other little sticky hand. Those two hands. 

Recently, a mom-friend and I were lamenting our lack of time and she said:

"I should write thank you notes to all my friends who are still my friends. But I don't have time to write the notes."

It was a perfect way to express what I think we all feel. But no thank you notes will ever be needed, if we all start telling the truth. 

Some days are hard. And some days are not. And some days all you can do is hang on to those hands.

And that's the truth.