Lately we've had a lot of thick heavy fog outside-said fog is fantastic and cozy, but it may impede the arrival of Melissa and Jeff today, as a third of flights in and out of Heathrow are cancelled from the fog. The temperatures have plummeted, so much so that the radiators are all on and the fireplace merrily spits and sparks away. Our bed is lucikly always warm, as we have a thick and heavy duvet on the bed that doesn't let the chill creep in.

I love Christmas, I've always loved Christmas. I've been struggling with it this year, as life in general seeps in and throws a fire blanket over my smolder for all things tinsel and twinkly. I keep getting overwhelmed-there's so much to do and there's no point in doing most of it.

I watch a lot of Christmas movies, anything remotely Christmas in them gets a view. I've caught some winners (Hogfather, my beloved Elf) and some real tankers (Christmas With the Kranks...the FUCK?) One came on this morning (when I was supposed to be on a conference call, but I have been battling a stomach bug all day, ergo not being on a call was a perk) called Comfort and Joy, starring Nancy McKeon (remember her?) The premise was simple-a successful, wealthy, workaholic city woman has a bump on the head and wakes up to see what her life could be like in some parallel universe (a story that has been done before, and with more finesse and a kick-ass soundtrack). The main character falls into a life of chaos, children, Christmas decorations, budgets, magic markers, suburbs, barking dogs, affable and adorable spouses, and realizes what they're missing on a cold Christmas Eve.

And this ridiculous film made me think: What's my bump on the head life like? Say I were to smack my forehead on a ceiling beam and then decide (as one does) to put my nightcap on and go to bed, only to wake up the next morning in a completely different life. Well...what would that life look like?

I sat there on the couch thinking about my life. I have the high pressure job, the career chaos. I live in the house in the suburbs. I have the chaotic Christmas ornaments, I have the strange bendy dog.

What would my bump on the head life be like then?

***************************************

"Braaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad!" I scream up the stairwell. "BRAD! We're going to be late!"

Brad races down the stairs, adjusting his cowlick. "You look beautiful, baby," he says, planting a kiss on my cheek.

I smile ruefully. I am currently wearing a ruffled skirt, a sequined sweater, and a corsage the size of a horses' head, complete with ribbons, teddy bears, and dyed carnations in gold and blue. I look like Erik the Viking threw up on me, and threw some Toys R Us merchandise against my boobs for good measure.

"I feel ridiculous in this thing," I reply.

"Oh, Sweetie, you have to wear that. I'm the Homecoming Sponsor, you have to wear that huge corsage. Besides, it's the big game tonight. We have to show our spirit."

"OK, baby. I will. We have to go, we only have the sitter for another three hours." I look into the living room, where the current assortment of videos, toys, and random Cheerios mark the entrance into the room previously known as The Room We Had Sex In, now known as The Kids' Entertainment Space So I Can Have Five Goddamn Minutes To Myself.

Brad comes down and kisses my forehead. He wrinkles his nose. "Did Caitlyn spit up on you?"

"GOD. I thought I got it all."

We have no time, so we dash out the door, waving goodbye to the kids and the sitter. We get into our Chrysler minivan and strap ourselves in, and I push the Best of Duran Duran CD into the CD player. I forward past Girls on Film to Rio, as we danced to that on our honeymoon in Cabo. We sing along.

We get to the high school and park in the teacher's parking area. We walk to the stadium, smelling the hot dogs and hormones from the parking lot. The band is playing something completely unrecognizable and the announcer is warming the crowd up.

Brad kisses me. "I'm going to join the rest of the math department, honey," he says.

"OK. I see Lynda over there, I'll go join the wives." I reply. I make my way to the bleachers to see some of the wives.

"Hi Helen!" Lynda exclaims. "Would you like a cup of hot chocolate?" she asks.

"Yes, please." I reply gratefully. I could use a drink like that.

"Did you hear?" Lynda whispers gleefully, always happy to spread the gossip. "I was talking to Karen at church on Sunday, and you won't believe it-she's getting a job." Lynda says the word "job" like most people say the word "gonorrhea".

"Really?" I ask with interest. "What's she going to do?"

"Oh, I don't remember. Something to do with banking. Didn't you used to do that?"

I shrug. "I used to work for a stockbrokers, yeah. I quit when I married Brad and got pregnant." I think back about my job then. When Brad and I were dating, I got a job offer working for a Swedish telecom company, which I turned down at the time. I used to wonder what would have happened had I taken that job, but I guess life wouldn't have been the same. Brad and I agreed I would be the stay at home parent, and I haven't had a moment to look back since. We both know that being a stay at home parent is an incredibly important and difficult job, but..

I look up and see Brad walk out onto the field with the Homecoming Court. In true Texas style, it's big hair and big jewelry. I clap with the crowd, as Brad strides out like a man in charge. I get a whif of Caitlyn's spit up, and my smile fades just a bit as I realize I am envious of Karen.

***************************************

OH. MY. GOD.

I shudder. It's not that being a stay at home parent is bad-in fact, before I get hate mail, let me state for the record that I think it's a very difficult job and my hat's off to any parent that does it. I just don't think I could do it, personally. I also think that life, that Homecoming Life? I don't think I could've done that, either. Will try again.

***************************************

I tap my foot impatiently. Gunther has asked me a million times to not do that, he hates the states I work my shoes into when I drop them off. I sigh impatiently and pull my scarf around my shoulder. I flip open my phone and dial Polly.

"Polly!" I bark when I get through. "Where the fuck is the car?"

"I'll check, Helen. It was ordered to be there for you."

"How many fucking times do I have to tell you-I want the car here WHEN MY PLANE LANDS. I don't care if he has to wait, he has nothing better to do!"

"I'll check Helen. One moment.....yes, ok he is waiting for you outside now, Helen. I'll see you when you get here, you have a joint VP meeting at 3:20."

God. I can't stand incompetence. I pick up my bag and walk outside the airport down the sidewalk. I see the car down the curb a ways.

"Alex!" I bark.

Alex comes up to me. "Hello, Madame. Can I take your bag?"

"Do." I hand it to him and swing into the backseat.

Alex gets in the front and adjusts the rearview mirror. "Did you have a pleasant flight, Madame?"

"I'm not in talking mode, Alex."

"Of course, Madame. I apologize."

I sigh and look out the window. I am bored. We have a 30 minute drive now into Manhattan and with my Blackberry Pearl battery dead, I have no internet. I am going mental thinking about all the work I need to do, all the emails I am missing. I grab my phone and dial Graham.

"Graham," I purr into the phone.

"Helen. What's up? I'm a little busy," Graham says shortly.

I go out of cat-purr mode at once. "Fine. Never mind. See you at home."

"I have a late meeting with a client. I will be staying out tonight."

I sit there, debate, then decide to go for it. "What's her name, Graham?"

He sighs heavily. "Christ, Helen. Do we have to do this every time? Look, I have to go. I'll see you tomorrow." He hangs up.

I hang up and sigh. I open my phone and dial. "Sam," I say calmly.

"Hey baby," Sam replies. "How was Prague?"

"Prague was good. How are you?"

"I am just on my way back from raquetball."

"Have a few minutes for an old friend?" I ask, smirking.

I hear his smile. "What did you have in mind?"

"The usual. See you in thirty."

He laughs. "God you're hot. Why weren't you this hot when we were married?"

"Because I was too busy chasing your money, darling, of course."

"Please, you did that yourself. You chewed through that stockbroking firm. You didn't need my money, you made your own."

"Whatever. I'll see you in thirty. Make sure you have the handcuffs this time, too. I'm bored with the silk scarves."

I hang up and direct Alex to Sam's house first. I figure I can divert to Sam's for twenty minutes, then back at the office. I promise myself I will stay at the office working until 10pm to catch up. I feel suddenly stressed. I realize there's alcohol in the car and I could use a drink like that. I reach into the sidebar and pour myself a scotch. I push away feelings of responsibility to my husband Graham, as I plan to go screw my ex-husband Sam. It's not like Graham's an angel either. I look out the window and see a tower for that Swedish telecom company, the one I nearly worked for. I make a note to check their listing, see if they've pulled out of their slump now.

We glide into the city, and I chase away any feelings of being human.

***************************************

Jesus.

Christ.

That was worse than Homecoming Mom. In every scenario I wind up not being myself, being something less than who I needed to be. At that fork in the road, the fork with the Swedish telecom job, I realize that saying no at that one single fork-let alone all the other choices I have had in my life-would have resulted in the most radically different life I could possibly imagine.

I pull my fleece robe tighter and look out at the fog.

I don't have kids, although I have two bouncy stepkids that (hopefully) arrive today.

I don't have a chauffer.

I don't have a husband.

I don't have loads of expensive heels.

I don't have an enormous corsage.

But I do have a little house, a bendy dog, a loving boyfriend, a world-class therapist, a job that I mostly hate but which doesn't own my soul, and the recognition that a Bump on the Head Life maybe couldn't compete with what I have now. A Bump on the Head Life is designed to show you what you don't appreciate in life, what you're missing, what could be so much better.

I am grateful for what I have.

Here's to not falling asleep after bumping my head.

-H.

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