The Surreal Life

The first day I had Lucy at home, I was cleaning and doing laundry in preparation for a friend to visit. I was engrossed in my tasks, loading clothes into the washing machine, when suddenly I sensed something with me in the little laundry room, and I turned and screamed -- and scared Lucy near to piddles. I wasn't used to having this little being at home with me, underfoot, appearing unexpectedly. I eventually got used to it, of course. She was only five pounds then, so it took a little longer to notice her then than it does now at 20 pounds in a 700 sq. ft. apartment. I remember looking at her one day and thinking to myself, "This little being relies on me. If I don't take care of her, she could die." There was something very surreal about that. It was the first time anything besides me was really my responsibility.

I've had other of these very surreal moments, and I always try to enjoy them. One thing I've come to learn about life is that it isn't big moments. Growing up, I always expected the big events in my life -- moving to a new house and city, starting a new school, graduating, starting college, getting married -- to be these pinnacle moments. Instead, they pass by like almost any other normal day. It's always sometime later when I feel the weight and shift of what has happened. On my wedding day, my best friend Lawyer Lady said, "Call Wes your husband. Come on, say it!" I laughed because it didn't really mean anything to me. Wes and I were excited about our wedding day, but to us it wasn't an event that was built up to so much as one that we simply arrived at and passed through enjoyably. In our hearts and minds, we were already together. Our wedding was simply a ceremony that made it official and celebrated that fact. So it wasn't like we said, "I do" and suddenly felt weak in the knees or heard the "Hallelujah" chorus. Every once in a while, though, I will kind of look at Wes and think to myself, "I met this guy and married him. I have a husband. Somewhere along the way I grew up, and now the two of us are living together and thinking about starting a family. We will always be together." And it's overwhelming in a really cool way. Wierd, but cool.

I had another of these moments last week when I was walking to get on the El on my way to work. I looked around me at the people rushing about, the skyscrapers that create the skyline, and the businesses and high-rise condos and thought, "I live in a big city. There are millions of people that live here, and I'm one of them." It was odd. It's like watching movies or tv shows now that are filmed in Chicago and realizing I know the places where they're set. I live in that big city, not in a little subdivision or military base housing. Wierd, but cool.

I know I'm a little young to be having these reminiscent feelings, but it seems like only yesterday that I was in high school and learning to drive and getting excited about Davidson. And now here I am -- I'm married, I have a dog, I live in an apartment in Chicago. Wierd, but cool.