For Sure

Yesterday, on my Facebook page, I wrote in my status box, “I am unsure.” Simple and even a bit vague – not intentionally, but just the way I felt at the moment. I didn’t think much about it to be honest. But others did. One person said that being unsure didn’t seem like my personality type (And what would that be – Unhuman Bitch Type B?). One said she had never known me to be unsure about anything. (The funny thing is that I am not sure who wrote that now that I think about it...hmmm…) Another wanted to know what specifically I was unsure about and if she should be worried. I started to think about how to respond. What am I unsure about?

I am unsure about things big and small.

Every day things. I am unsure of what I will wear, usually because I am unsure of what is not yet in the piles of dirty laundry. Switching, mixing, matching, tugging, searching, ironing, and even changing after I thought I felt pretty sure. (And all that then leaves me unsure as to when I will have the time, quarters, and muscle to drag it all to the Laundromat.) I am unsure if I should answer my home phone. I don’t have caller id. I never know how long it is okay to drink milk once it has expired. I worry that I have either over or under watered any type of plant. I am unsure of if and when one of my tires will blow out. The light indicating imbalanced tire pressure has been mysteriously on for a few days now. (The mechanic was unsure of the reason.) I am unsure of how my day will go. I plan the day but that always changes with bad hair, long lines, heavy traffic, or forgetting to apply deodorant in the morning. Today specifically, I feel unsure about the bug bite on my shin. It seems to have been there too long. (I am not sure it isn’t a scar at this point.)

And I am unsure about bigger things. I am unsure that I will ever have enough money to pay off my debt, let alone retire before my 101st birthday. I hate the question, “Where do you see yourself in five years?” And don’t even get me started on organized religion. I am unsure that I will ever need a Maid of Honor. I know there are plenty of fish in the sea, but at this point I am not sure I know how to swim. I don’t know that I will ever be able to bitch about morning sickness or labor pains. I wonder when our troops will come home, and how many more this country will lose. I am unsure that our country will ever be truly healed of racism, homophobia, sexism, and hate. And sometimes I doubt the impact one person can have on all that, leaving me then unsure about my purpose in this life. Anyway, I am not sure that which makes this world beautiful will even exist in the future, depending on what we kill, cut down, destroy, or pollute into extinction next.

There are a few things I am certain of though – both big and small. I am not a morning person. I strongly dislike onions, thunderstorms, ignorance, heights, large crowds, and the feel of cotton balls. I know that babies, mashed potatoes, lavender, Diet Coke, most animals, hoodies, and any episode of Sex in the City make me smile. I am certain that there are few things better than sand between your toes, love letters, Aunt Deb’s No-bake Cookies, and the crisp air of autumn. I can count on Shelby-girl, my once-stray now spoiled pup, to be happy to see me when I come home, no matter how long or short I have been gone. And while I don’t know where I will be in five or ten years, I am sure that my work and my personal life will always be in line with what I believe to be true and worth saving. I also know that I have family and friends whose love and support make me more comfortable with being unsure.

Most importantly, I am completely sure that I will always be working on getting to know myself and my piece in the puzzle. I sometimes just wish I had the box – seeing the big picture helps put it all together.