Kurt and I have spent the last three months trying to buy a home. Sounds easy enough, right? Not so much. We've seen things no potential buyer should see (red heart wallpaper, dirty towels tacked up as "curtains", etc), and our three attempts at purchasing a home have ended in disaster. The last attempt was especially disappointing because I loved the house. Unfortunately, I didn't love what we found in the inspection. I've found myself moping about and saying "I wish the house had been in good shape" repeatedly these last few days.
Then this thought came to mind: "And I wish I had a prehensile tail." Which I do. I could hang upside down and swing about with my hands free. A prehensile tail is high on my list of God's most awesome creations. But the point is that I don't have a prehensile tail, and I never will. For all of the Botox and rhinoplasty and enhancements I read about in my spam folder, no one has yet found a way to give humans this magnificent appendage. And I am ok with that. I don't stay up nights lamenting my lack or find my days dampened with disappointment. I accept the way of the universe, and I get on with my life. Which is why remembering that I also wish I had a prehensile tail puts things in perspective for me. It's my version of "It is what it is."
So I've let my disappointment about the house go. Clearly it's no more meant to be than my dream of having a snack while swinging from the rafters. Of course, we still need to find a place to live ...
Drawing by Brehms Tierleben