Wrong turn...

She finished her errands early and thought she would surprise him with lunch. How long had it been since she had done that? Just shown up at the office with picnic in hand? Too long. Way too long. So why not today? And with that she meant to turn right.

She turned left out of habit. Heading back home instead of toward his office. Dang it. She was in the middle of downtown so turning around meant navigating all of the one way streets in a circle to get back to where she started. She hated when she did things like that. Not paying enough attention. Always distracted. What was wrong with her?

As the voice in her head started in on how she was always messing up she took a deep breath and remembered what her therapist had taught her. Even if it's a voice inside your own head that doesn't mean it's right. She wasn't always messing up. She wasn't always distracted. In fact she was so organized that errands she thought would take her all day had only taken half of the day. She had worked out a plan and followed it exactly. She was really very organized. She ran a business. She was raising kids who never went hungry or had to go to school in dirty clothes. She was really very much in control of her life. 

Okay that was much better. She was fine. There you go, six months of therapy paying off. As she was giving herself the much needed pep talk she missed her turn. Again. 

She had to shake her head. Okay, back two more streets now and then she would get to the on ramp for the freeway. Seriously, who misses the turn twice? She really couldn't navigate her way out of a paper bag. She was going to be one of those old ladies who had to give up her car keys. But she would have to do it at 37 instead of 73! This was just like the time she forgot the plane tickets and they had to go all the way home to pick them up only to realize once they got back to the airport that she had left her driver's license in her other purse. Two trips back and forth to the airport and almost missing the flight. Would she ever learn to be more prepared? Who messes up the same thing twice? 

Deep breath. This wasn't just like that. Not at all. She had forgotten the plane tickets because she thought he had grabbed them when he was in the office. And her driver's license had been moved when the baby threw up on her purse and she had to switch bags quickly. It wasn't like she had just forgotten things carelessly. She was trying to get the baby ready, the packing finished, and everyone out of the house on time. It wasn't carelessness. It was just being overly busy. And why were the tickets her responsibility anyway? Neither of them had double checked before they left, that didn't make it her fault. And in the end they had made the flight on time. Because she had insisted they leave plenty of time to get to the airport in the first place.

This time as she worked through the negative thoughts she sat through a green light. The honk from the car behind her woke her up just in time to see the light turn yellow. Crap. That was inconsiderate of her. Now who ever was behind her was probably going to be late. They had places to go, and it was probably their lunch hour and they only had limited time. She had wasted their time. So inconsiderate of her. She was so self centered.

Okay, now that's not fair. She was distracted, sure. But was it that big of a deal? Really? It would be another 3 or 4 minutes of their time. That was all. Everyone has zoned out at light before. It's okay. If they really were that pressed for time they wouldn't be trying to drive through downtown at all. Nobody gets anywhere fast downtown. It was okay.

She looked at the clock on the dashboard. It was probably too late to just surprise him with lunch now anyway. It had been a good thought, but by now he would have already grabbed something to eat and anything she brought would just be a waste. Spontaneity was never her strong suit. So many things could go so wrong. Something as simple as dropping off lunch could turn in to a nightmare of missed connections and bad timing and even one memorable case of food poisoning. So really why bother? Though she tried. Because she knew it was important to him. It was one of the reasons why he wanted a divorce. She just was too stodgy and set in her ways. Not fun enough. 

But it was impossible to be fun and spontaneous and still be organized and together. You couldn't have both. Not while raising kids anyway. Schedules were so important. Sure a quick weekend get-a-way would be fun but there was soccer practice on Saturday and a homework project due on Monday. So in her mind you put those things aside for a few years. You could still have fun. You could still do things. They just had to be planned. That didn't make them less fun, that just made them different. They would have years together after the kids were grown. Heck, even once they were old enough to fend for themselves more they could go back to the spontaneous things he liked so much. Though honestly, she never really did.

Selfish. She had been so selfish. Only wanting to do the things she liked. Never the things he did.

No, that wasn't true at all she had gone along with all of his crazy ideas at the beginning. She loved how happy they made him. But once the kids came and work picked up and then she started her own company she just needed more structure.

Because she didn't love him as much as he loved her.

No, that wasn't true either. She loved him deeply. But she had to balance the kids and work and marriage and why was it always on her to make things work? Why was she expected to give up what she wanted to do just so he would be happy?

As she headed toward home she realized that voice in her head, the one she had been arguing with, the one the therapist had told her wasn't always telling the truth. That voice. Well it wasn't right. And it wasn't hers. And she didn't have to listen to it anymore. Eight months after the separation, six months after starting therapy to fix what was wrong with her, twenty minutes in to a wrong turn she heard her own voice loud and clear. He could get his own damn lunch.