When I was getting ready to come back to the States for the holidays last month, one of the things I was most excited about was being reunited with my trusty, much-loved car, Felix the Passat. Felix is so named partly because that was the first name that came to mind when I thought, "What should I name my car?", but also because he (yeah, he) is dark, swift, and can brake quickly...like a cat...Or so I told myself. Just work with me!
I've been noticing that just in the last four months some stretches of the highways have been completely re-paved and in some cases slightly re-routed. Some of my frequently-traveled routes used to be fraught with potholes, roller-coaster curves, and other potential hazards to my vehicle (not to mention my life); but now they are smooth, straight, and safe(r). I remember the summer months during which these improvements were being made; none of us were really thinking that much about how much better it would eventually be. We were really just supremely annoyed by the immediate inconveniences of nightly lane closures and the length of time it took to travel two miles while roadwork was underway. Now I hardly notice the miles pass on such smooth roads.
Things had to briefly get worse before they got better...but they got better, and so much better that I hardly remember the former potholes and traffic jams. Doesn't that principle ring true in much of life? Traffic patterns, messy garages, hurting relationships...In order to fix any of it, things have to get just a little messier for a little while, but it gets better. It does.
That is my profound Monday morning thought. Now I'm going to go eat pancakes with my roommates.