Happiness is a warm…?

So as I was passing my neighbour’s house earlier I saw a girl I used to be friends with. We got on quite well. I’m guessing I’ve not seen her for about 14 years. I had a sudden urge to pop in and say hi. Then I remembered my mother saying ‘she’s a doctor now you know’. Then I could hear the conversation in my head. It went something like this:
Me: Wow, you’re a doctor now? Where’d you study? *you have lovely hair*
Girl: Trinity..
Me: Wow, and you’re married? *it’s so long and shiny*
Girl: Yes, he’s a doctor too!
Me: And you own your own house, where’s that then? *gosh you are tall..and pretty*
Girl: Oh *enter posh part of Dublin here*, what have you been doing?

And how in hell do I answer that?

Answers on the back of a post card please!

Well I could start with. I’m not a doctor. I’m not married. I don’t live in some posh part of anywhere (but the people think they’re posh). I’m not tall. I’m not willowy. My hair isn’t long and shiny either.

How do I explain to people who have what they have and who are happy with what they have that I could possibly be happy with what I have which to them is significantly less than what they have. That living in an old farmhouse that has its own climate, three dogs that have mental issues and dodgy vegetable patch are the pieces that complete the puzzle. My pieces that complete my puzzle.

Needless to say I didn’t stop for a chat with the shiny haired girl. And I have has no desire to since.

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