Erica Kane has it easy. Of course she is a fictional soap
character on “All My Children,” but her life of cliff hangers, love
affairs and tragedy is more exciting than mine. Why it is that life and
soap operas collide at times?
Me, I’m a plain Jane trying to get by. I don’t meddle in my friends’
lives. But between my own family and in laws, sometimes high drama
becomes a sudsy entertainment for everyone to watch unfold.
I’m no Jennifer Aniston or Reese Witherspoon. Little do people know
I’m actually a rather boring character. My character would likely get
killed off by a microchip implanted in my brain or remarry my long lost
love after much endurance.
By day I answer phones, and the most exciting thing that happens to
me in my job as a receptionist, is when I get a prank call. On my desk
are piles of papers. No champagne chilling; just a regular cup of java.
Sometimes I spice it up by adding a half cappuccino. Wow, what a rebel.
There are no fancy martini glasses or suave men in silk suits hanging on
my every word.
When I go home, I kick off the heels, and put on my ugly sweats—the
one you wear at an all you can eat buffet. Admit it, everyone does it.
My hair is almost always pulled in a messy ponytail. My bedspread is
not made of fine silk ruffles or chenille. The bedspread is a tattered
old comforter.
Where Erica Kane would have a full bar with exotic liquors, I bide
my time guzzling back a diet coke. When I want to get down and funky I
might drink a glass of boxed wine. Erica would be so proud.
I don’t attend glitzy balls or fancy parties. Some Fridays I might
go to a local bar and hang with friends. Most often I’m watching my
prized Sex and the City collection with my husband.
To listen to some folks, though, you’d think I was living in Pine
Valley with my fourth millionaire husband. Obviously, they’re not paying
attention.
Whatever the case may be, life is not a soap opera. I spend my days
trying do the best job I can at everything I do—work, grad school,
friendships. I have never performed brain surgery in a cave on a
deserted island or rescued my father from a busty blond gold digger.
Unlike characters on a soap opera, we don’t come back from the dead
when our contract is renewed, or come back as a long lost identical twin
with amnesia. I have a twin brother, so unless he wears a wig, this
won’t be happening.
We have one chance to make our lives worthwhile. Let’s spend it
building each other up and making ourselves and others happy. Let’s not
move to Pine Valley just yet. Erica has plenty of future bridesmaids at
her fingertips.
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