Sorry about the radio silence. I have been over thinking my posts just like I feared. Instead of just letting things flow, I’ve been agonizing over blog topics and coming up blank. That is not the purpose of this blog, so I decided to just put hand to keyboard and see what happens. I apologize in advance.
Not to toot my own horn, but I have good instincts. Generally speaking, if I trust my gut things work out for the best, or at least not the worst. I also have a good handle on my abilities and limitations. Due to my unstable childhood, I am totally risk adverse and a realist. This entire paragraph is a long way of saying that I am not wrong all that often (my husband is wholeheartedly disagreeing with this statement). However, when my “wrong radar” fails me, it does so in a big way.
Back in the spring of 2005, I began applying to law schools. I had many friends who were either lawyers or in law school themselves. ALL of them warned me about the various ways my life would end once I started law school. Lengthy tales were told of having to study all the time, ridiculous competition among students, feelings of insecurity, barely being able to keep your head above water and so on. EVERY SINGLE ONE of these people told me to rethink my decision. “Ha”, I thought. “Maybe law school is hard for YOU. Don’t you people realize how smart and special I am”? I would respond to these stories with a terse ” I think I’ll be ok” and a smirk. Ugh! I shudder when I think about the sheer arrogance of my response and my inability to heed their warnings.
Fast forward to the fall of 2005, and Douchy McDouchepants (AKA me) was knocked down quite a few pegs. Never in my life had I been as miserable as I was while in law school. I seriously hated it. Turns out all those people who gave me advice were trying to help me. Imagine that? They actually liked me enough to try to warn me about the hell that I was about to pay over $40,000 per year for. Clearly, my “wrong radar” failed me in a MAJOR way in this instance.
You would think that I would learn from this experience. Perhaps the next time some intelligent people offer me some pearls of wisdom, I would consider it, or at least not scoff at it. Yeah…not so much.
Last fall, while pregnant and in the midst of an unplanned home renovation, I decided that I NEEDED dark hardwood floors. Those with dark hardwoods had STRONG feelings on the subject. ” They show everything… every speck of dust, every scratch. EVERYTHING”. TRUSTWORTHY people who are much better housekeepers than I, warned me about the upkeep needed for dark hardwoods, especially in homes with pets. “Maybe in your house”, I thought. ” I actually clean my floors every day and my dog doesn’t shed”. You know where this is going right?
Obviously, I got the dark hardwoods. They are beautiful and everything I wanted. However, I spend a good portion of my life sweeping and/or vacuuming dust bunnies. By good portion, I mean every single day, sometimes twice. ( I might be a tad bit obsessive/compulsive) I notice at least five new scratches every SINGLE day. These floors they show everything…ALL OF THE THINGS! While this mistake may seem minor compared to the whole law school debacle, to me they are equal. That is how much time I spend dealing with these damn floors. Thanks for nothing “wrong radar”, ya jerk.
From this point on, I vow to try to take advice from people even if I think I am (insert adjective) than them. Moreover friends, I implore you to do what I was unable to and take advice from those with experience. Oh yeah, and avoid law school and dark hardwoods. You won’t be sorry.