Zee German and I have a thing. We go out to eat and we talk about life. goals. careers. arming Uganda’s children with guns (Oh hey Kony!).
This week we found ourselves facing another game of let’s see what random high fructose corn syrup “edible” we can find in the cupboards – did I mention I used to love cooking? Bait and switch baby. Bait and switch. But since we had recently discovered a new hidden gem of sushigasm in my mouth (and the cutest little sushi chef ever!) let’s not kid on how long that game lasted.
But what was the most fun about going out was getting the chance to talk to Zee German. Really talking to him. Because what I’m realizing is that we’re stuck in a consistency pattern. We get up. Talk Puffin to our Muffin (don’t be jealous you don’t have a secret language developed only by crazy couples overly obsessed with their puppehs). Go to work. Binge on the horrible office food that will surely cause our bodies to spontaneously combust. Go home. Workout! – ’cause we’re sexy and we know it…could not resist. could not. – And then somewhere between playing with Puffer McNugget (AKA our BABY PUPPEH! Love Child) and hoarding candy, we find out way to the bed and pass out.
And somewhere along the road those big dreams we talked about. The goals. The Careers. They all get swept away under the blanket of Comfort.
So while I’m raving about his genius creativity and how he has the insane ability to see things where others don’t. That he’s someone who could really come up with something original and amazing, and not just a spin-off of someone else’s amazing. He tells me he just wants to own a gun store (No he’s not crazy. He’s just in love with everything American. Muscle Cars. The 2nd Amendment. The right to NOT ride the bus.). To which I say, in the most I-am-not-belittling-your-dreams way possible, “But don’t you want to do something bigger than yourself? Something that makes an impact. Means something to somebody?”
And this is what I got.
“For every gun sold I’d give one to a kid in Africa.” [pause…wait for it.] “Like the Tom shoes.”
But of course that immediately spun off to how, though horribly inappropriate, what those Kony supporters really should have done is just arm the kids. Wait for Kony to come to them. And well hi there Kony.
However it doesn’t discount that I. That WE. All of us. Need to constantly remind ourselves that we truly are our own worst obstacles to being our most authentic versions of ourselves. That we’re the only ones (okay, maybe that’s itty bitty broad) stopping us from being the next Steve Jobs or Jeff Bezos.
And that sometimes we just need to flat out remind ourselves that…