Just in time for Independence Day my wristwatch has developed an independent streak of its own. I noticed this yesterday morning while getting myself ready to tackle another day at Seams to You, the place where your sewing dreams come true.
I had a feeling I was running a little late, but a quick glance at my watch showed that it was actually a lot earlier than I had thought. In fact, I had gobs of time! Not investigating this apparent discrepancy any further, I poured another cup of coffee, watered the houseplants and applied a few extra layers of mascara. I tried on and discarded three outfits and even attempted to torture my hair into something resembling young and hip.
Things went well until I happened to look at the tiny alarm clock by my bedside and said WTF? The time display on my cell phone confirmed what had happened. All on its own, without my permission, written or otherwise, the watch had lost more than half an hour (who knows where and why), turning me from a get-ready-at-a-leisurely-pace kind of person into the sort of crazy woman who, because she is now late, rushes out of the house with only half her hair done.
Normally I'm all for independence. I'm an independent person myself, having chosen to make a living by running my own business. I earn a fraction of my former income, but, by golly, I do what I want. I am in charge! No one can fire me, write me up for insubordination or lay me off. Each one of these is worth every penny I don't have anymore.
I like it when countries gain their independence from oppressive forces that would keep them down and exploit their resources, human and otherwise. I like it when people venture forth in search of something that no corporation, no matter how with-it and progressive, can ever provide. I've never been a blind follower myself, nor do I want to see this trait in others, right down to the pets I've had the honor of living with.
My last pet, a very smart little wiener dog, was quick to adapt to this unusual concept. Often I'd call her and she would just sit there, weighing her options. The look in her eyes was easy to read: now why would I want to do that? So sometimes she would come, and other times she wouldn't. I loved that dog for a hundred wonderful reasons, but most of all I loved her for what I can only call her independent thinking. Besides, I knew, had I called her for a vitally important reason, she would have come.
Where I don't value independence all that much is in machinery and other stuff that I rely on to keep my life running as smoothly as possible. I don't like it when my car decides that the topmost flyover of the Big I is a good place for the clutch to go out. Or that a flashflood-causing downpour is the appropriate moment to make the driver side window plummet into the depths of the car door. That kind of independence shouldn't be encouraged, and I'm sure many would agree with me here.
A memo, then, to cars, watches, laptops and coffee makers: I'm happier when you don't decide to suddenly go rogue on me, messing up my day; everyone else, feel free to exercise your independence muscle whenever and however you choose. You live only once; make the most of it and don't be a mindless follower.
I'll end by saying Happy Birthday, America! Your independent spirit hasn't aged a bit, and while you do look a little time-worn, I'm confident you'll be celebrating your special day until the end of time.
