When did Rucha stop and let life take over? Is this what they call contentment? And this is something I aspired for? How did I get here?

Lets start from the beginning …

Date something April 2004 – Just broke up with the guy who came to be known as my biggest mistake. You’ve heard this before, but I’ll repeat it once more. He was the one in my wide-eyed dream for whom I left behind the land of opportunities and returned to the homeland. As all young women in love do, I had the fanciful hopes that once I let him catch up with his intended success, I would once again get back on my destined path. Foolish? Yes. But also quite daring, and very me! Around the same time as the break-up two parallel transformations occurred – the first was a wild, emotional single woman with a mission to overcome the pain and the world along with it. The second began despite the first – this was a woman who craved stability and the standard chosen path of ambition and family.

May 2005 – I married. The first became the second and the two tranformations merged to make a very boring adult me. And that, I am told is called contentment. The old Rucha would have called it “letting life take over”, but whatever, I am content aren’t I?

Content in getting ready to make babies and make a $100000 at the end of two years. Content is when I can put away a long held dream of having a Husky for a pet companion, because I may not have the time from my career and husband to raise a pup, since we are really focused on buying a home for those babies we want to make. Content is when all my Rucha-like impulses must be thwarted because they freak out my husband’s delicate balance regarding our economic standing – since we are supposed to be saving money and time towards that house and babies.

Alright I know I sound a tad cynical, and like I really hate my husband. Most days I love him quite passionately – especially when he goes against his nature to pick our cat’s poop (since I just fell asleep on the couch). But sometimes, I just want to chew him up and really leave him bleeding and mauled. Not quite the contentment one would expect from the boring adult me. There are some men, who just don’t have clarity. My husband is not one of those. But then there are those who lack imagination, entirely. And that is him in a nutshell.

Ok, so I am not entirely devoid of blame. But I know this worked with Nala, the cat and it made me think it might work with the Husky too. Also, I really shouldn’t have asked to play with this gorgeous 8-week old Husky pup, with the black markings around ice blue eyes! Oh that puppy smell! I know it sounds insane, but if any perfume maker ever bottled that smell and sold it, I would gladly bathe in it everyday!!! ☺ So here’s the perfect pup at the local pet store – the dream Husky dog. Couldn’t we just buy her? We’ll figure out how to reschedule our not very filled calendar around her a little bit? Couldn’t we pleeeeeeeeease? And the answer – “Well, if you have maade up your mind about it, then you’re not really interested in my opinion, so sure.”

Right, of course. Yes, of course lets take a day to think about it. (Good manoeuver – got me out of the store real quick). The scene shifted to the living room an hour after – so what do you think? “Well, the brochure from the pet store says we can’t leave the pup alone. I work 9 hours, even though I work from home. I mean I can take her out and all that, but you work away from home. What is your commitment to the pup?” My commitment? I don’t know, I’ll have to figure it out. I mean I took care of Nala, didn’t I? I’ll figure it out. “But Nala is no work at all. It says in this brochure that the pup needs to go to tha bathroom every 5 hours. That it should not be left alone.” Well, it won’t be alone. You’ll be here won’t you? “Oh, but that project in Philadelphia… I won’t be at home much then.” (The Philadelphia project has been an excuse for everything since it was signed over 6 months ago!!) Ok, maybe we can get a dog walker… a dog day care. “We can’t afford those!!” Do you know what they cost? “Umm… not really. But I’m sure they’re expensive.”

My memory fades a little at this point – but if you got around all the noise, I think the next couple of hours were really filled with name-calling, emotional breakdown (mostly mine), tantrums (again me), sarcasm (oh, he had some interesting things to say here!!) and overall not quite the picture of contentment.

I’m not saying there’s no sense in what he’s saying. But really, do you detect any ounce of imagination? A will to make it work? I think its because he’s content with status quo – after all, isn’t contentment always about a steady state? Might as well be a sloth! I think we almost are….