In the past two-weeks I have learned that our tour guide, my husband, and his sister all betrayed me; some in the most awful of ways. Could there be anything worse? Yes, there could be, as I have been so gently reminded from above.
As I have pondered things these past weeks I have catastrophized, neuroticised, fantasized, and hypothesized. I have cried a fifth of tears and singlehandedly kept the Kleenex company in business.
Finally, I could do nothing else but pray. So I did. In between sobs, hiccups, and the sorrowful sniffing of snot back into my sinus cavities; I asked for some help. Now, I am not much of a religious person but I have had my share of miracles when I have asked. This time all it appeared was that I received was a big bunch of nothing.
No, “I’M THINKING ON IT” or “YOU’VE RUN OUT OF MIRACLES FOR THIS LIFE.” The only thing I obtained was this fleeting phrase:
“Fuck,” I thought. “Where is the compassion, dude?”
“Come on, I know you’ve got better than that! Heck, you have parted seas and rained hot coals down on the wicked. The least you could do is a repeat performance.”
But IT COULD BE WORSE was all that was sent down from on high to me.
And then it occurred to me those worst-case scenarios might just be what was needed to lead me to find a slight bit of gratitude and happiness in my off-the-rails-life. So I pondered a bit and these came to me:
- He could have knocked her up.
- He could have knocked her sister up.
- She could have lived down the street and I would have to see her smirking face everyday for the rest of my life.
- He could have sent her double the amount of money he did. I mean what he sent could have been a four-yeardegree at a prestigious college instead of the equivalent of several semesters worth of education that he sent.
- His sister could be my sister.
- I could have gone to Singapore only to have walked in on them. Now that would have been awkward.
- His sister could have been his lover instead of his ally in deceiving me
- I could have sent her Victoria’s Secret which she would have worn for my husband instead of the money I sent to her and her family.
- She could have splashed the internet full of naked pictures of her and my husband together in Singapore instead of them just making out at the butterfly farm.
- I could have picked up some disease from my cheating husband.
- My husband could have become a polygamist.
- He could have fucked our tour guide in Chile and that would have been bad because his name was Hector.
There. Indeed, it could have been worse. Way worse.
So for now, I am counting my blessings as I head into the third week of The Day My Life Went Straight To Hell a/k/a No More Tour Guides For Me.