Sunday, July 13, 2008


David and I have been spending way too much time lately obsessively watching Netflix-ed episodes of The Wire.  (Yes, I know.  We're disturbingly behind the times.  We have busy lives.  Well, David has a busy life.  I'm just lazy.)

As all of you already know (because we're the last people in America-- or at least the metro D.C.-Baltimore area) to watch The Wire, it's an incredible show.  It's disturbing in a lot of ways, because, you know, drug gangs and kids getting involved at an early age and the criminals' seeming inability to get straight even when they want to and union corruption and the failures of the justice system and whatnot.

One of the interesting things about it, though, is that it's actually set at a particular moment in time.  And I don't mean in a The-Brady-Bunch-was-set-in-the-1970s kind of way, but rather in a way that's much more specific.  

For example, we recently saw an episode that referenced the cicadas that descended upon the D.C. area back in 2004.  I had completely forgotten about them.  Last night, McNulty's date was watching a postmortem of the 2004 presidential election.  I've been so wrapped up in McCain v. Obama that I got a little rattled to see Bush v. Kerry all over again.  (I do keep trying to console myself this election year by remembering that everyone had written President Bush off at this time in 2004.  I'm hoping for something similar in 2008 . . . but I'm not holding my breath.)  This isn't just a show of the 2000s; it's a show that is unapologetically of-a-moment.  For what we've been watching lately, that moment is 2004.

It's weird because, to me, 2004 really does seem like yesterday.  When we were younger, the year-to-year changes seemed so consequential.  A four-year span back then would have meant the transition from middle school to high school, or high school to college, or (for me) college to law school.  When did my life become so the same year to year? 

If I'm honest with myself, I can see some obvious-- and major-- changes that have occurred since 2004.  This time four years ago, I had just moved to D.C. from Atlanta.  David and I were engaged, but we wouldn't be married for another year and change.  I was in private practice, and generally hating every minute of it.  I knew very few people in Washington, and the people I did know were all David's friends.

Life is definitely better now.  I have a job I love, even when it makes me crazy.  I have lots of friends (although I'd be lying if I didn't say that I miss my Georgia girlfriends desperately).  David and I have settled into married life, and we haven't driven each other nuts yet.  Of course, we thought that we'd have children by now, but we are learning more and more everyday to trust in God's timing on that front.  (Any time now, Lord!)  We belong to a parish that we love, and in which we're becoming increasingly involved.  We have a comfortable home in a neighborhood we enjoy.

It makes me wonder what my life will look like four years from now.  And will the next four years pass in a flash?  What should I do to make sure that I remember to enjoy life as it comes, rather than always waiting for the next thing?  How can I remember to count each day's blessings, and take to heart each day's lessons?  How do you do it?

1 comment:

Ali said...

I ask the very same questions. . . let me know when you come up with something. :-)