Difficult

If I had one complaint with Life, it would be the fact that It is always, most of the time, difficult.

In hour #5 of a 6-hour trip home (one that should take 4 hours) I was trying to come up with the proper metaphor for how I feel about Life in New Mexico. This is the best I could come up:

I like to playfully torment children and one of the things that really frustrates them is if you dangle a toy or gum or candy in front of them and every time they go to grab it, you swing it just out of their reach. At first they think it's funny but then, after two or three times, complete and utter frustration sets in.

Somebody/something is SOOOOOO getting even with me for all the times I've done that to innocent children.

New Mexico, as a whole, is a very difficult place to live. And on the days where I just want Life to be easy and I want to accomplish the simplest of tasks without it being exhausting, the difficult-ness of living in New Mexico is completely frustrating. That's when I feel like the little kid.

Today I was driving back to Silver City from mom's house. I hate what I have to go through to get to her house. True, once you're there, it's pretty nice. But I hate that I have to worry about things like my tires and oil pan. I shouldn't have to worry about those things in my attempt to get to Mom!

I got up at 5:30, the kids and I left the house at 6:30. I dropped them off at school at 7:50 and went on my way. (Mind you, the hour and 20 minute drive from mom's house to the school is about 30 miles.)

At the bottom of The Mountain, I head out across the desert and make it about...10 miles. I see what looked like a roadblock. As I pulled up to the police officer, I saw a line of cars pulled off in a parking area to my right. I thought Border Patrol caught a bunch of Mexicans.

No. Not so.

I rolled up to the officer and he looked at me like I knew what I should do.

"What do you need from me, sir?" I prompted.

He told me the Missile Range was testing missiles and we had about an hour wait. He directed me to pull off behind one of the cars in row 2. I obliged.

And for the next hour and ten minutes, me and about 150 other people hung out on the side of the road watching our tax dollars fly overhead in the form of missiles and airplanes.

Skye loved all the attention she was getting, Jada growled and barked at every person who walked by and the puppies wagged their little butts and enjoyed being petted. It was really like Holly's Roadside Petting Zoo. I talked to a 15-year-old the whole time who helped me with the dogs and told me about her life.

Eighty minutes later, we were good to go. I make it about 50 miles and run into the road construction that slows everyone down to 40 mph for 20 miles. Ten minutes after that, is the inspection station where everyone's reduced to one lane and goes through what looks like a weight station.

The Border Patrol officer asks, "Are you an American citizen?" Since I always say yes, he always lets me go.

By the time I get to Silver City, it's been 7 hours since I woke up, 6 hours since I left mom's.

And I really want, just once, for Life to be easy, you know. I don't necessarily mean the big things - I know, trust me, that things are going to be tough. But it's the little things, the things that are just supposed to easily happen because that's the way it's always been....those things should be easy.

Things like:
- going to mom's house
- flushing the toilet
- draining the kitchen sink
- quartering a chicken
- ordering McDonalds
- getting mail
- taking out the trash
- getting to an airport
- making decent money
- taking a bath

Peace, my friends. Cheers to us and this not-so-easy, most of the time hard Life.