This post brought to you by a few of the deadly sins

There once was a time when I'd keep my innermost thoughts, dreams, concerns, and fears confined to my journal. Or at least I only shared them with my parents, my therapist, my boss, my coworkers, a few friends, and the lady in the supermarket. Now, however, I just lay them out here so all of cyberspace can share in my neuroses. (Sigh.) Well, anyway, I've got another confession to make, and here it is: Sometimes I don't like being around other people. Heck, sometimes I don't even like being around myself. But that's a subject for another time.

You may be wondering what brought this on. Well, it's BBQ season. I generally love BBQs. Particularly when I'm not hosting, I don't have to cook, and there's beer available. But tonight I'm supposed to go to a BBQ with Rob's poker buddies and their wives. And here's the thing -- I don't really know any of the poker wives. I'm sure I'll recognize some of them and even be vaguely familiar with who they are in the social stratosphere of Wallingford, PA, but I don't know any of them well. And I don't like being around people when I don't know at least one person really well. I find myself clinging to my husband, and I absolutely despise that level of dependency. 

This is embarrassing to admit, but when I'm around people I don't know well, I still worry about the stupid stuff that isn't supposed to matter at all, like:

• Am I wearing the right clothes?
• How much nicer is their house than mine?
• Is my alma mater and career impressive enough? 
• Will they find me witty or just weird?

Rob doesn't have to worry about these things. As we know from my post back in April ("He's always a woman to me"), he's got the clothes. There could be a dead body in the house and he wouldn't notice. He's got a stellar alma mater, and he works for the Phillies which gives him instant popularity. No one ever considers him witty or weird, they just wonder how they can get game tickets out of him. (I regularly remind him that if he ever leaves the Phillies, his popularity is going to take a nose dive.)

I try to be rational, really I do. On one hand, I know I'm incredibly lucky to live in a nice community (we bought when the real estate prices were low), but on the other hand I hate feeling the need to keep up. It seems everywhere I look there's another BMW, another nine-year-old girl wearing real Uggs, another family vacationing in the tropics, another mom with clothes way hipper and more expensive than I've ever owned, and another high school grad off to the very best college money can buy. My son spent the holiday weekend with a friend's family on a 47' sail boat in the Chesapeake, for crying out loud, and our friends Em and Dave are in Dave's hometown of Newport, RI. Clearly we're spending time with folks from the other side of the tracks. 

Okay, now that I've put this all out there I feel better. Pathetic for admitting it, but better nonetheless. Cause putting it out there has forced me to think about your reaction. The one where you say, with all due respect, "Oh, woe is me. Shut the hell up. Let's count our blessings, shall we?"

• You live in a nice house in a nice neighborhood. You've got air conditioning and heat, beds, working appliances, and a newly remodeled bathroom. 
• You've never gone hungry.
• You're happily married (the majority of the time).
• You've got two great kids (most of the time).
• Your children go to one of the best public schools in the state.
• You've got good great friends. The kind you can call at 3:00 a.m. if you need to talk.
• You're healthy. Your husband is healthy. Your kids are healthy. 
• You've still got both your parents, and better yet, you like both your parents.
• You're employed in a job you love. Your husband is employed in a job he usually loves (though he'd love it more if the Phils would start winning again).

Alright. It's official. I now feel worse. How can I whine about what others have when I already have more than I can ever deserve? I should be ashamed of myself.

This bipolar post has been brought to you by the Deadly Sins of Greed, Envy, and Pride. If not but for the grace of God I should be burning in hell right now.

I leave you with the immortal words of Train from their song "Calling All Angels":

In a world where all we want is only what we want until it’s ours.