Amanda Lamb: How did I get here?

On a recent Thursday after my morning run, I found myself with eight garbage bags spread across my driveway.

I was looking for the bar code from a box top that I needed to send in for a $50 rebate. It was trash day, which meant several of the bags had been in the trash can as long as a week in 90 degree heat. Imagine the decomposition that takes place with food remnants in a sealed garbage bag. Let's just say it wasn't pretty. Miraculously, I located the box in the top of the third bag untouched by leftovers or spent coffee grounds. My husband drove in from his workout just as I was cinching up the bags and gave me a questioning look.

"You don't even want to know," I said as he pulled into the driveway shaking his head.

I had considered just blowing it off. But, then I told my friend the story about throwing away the bar code, and she said, "That's a tough one." She asked me to consider what I would do if I had thrown away a $50 bill in the trash, would I try and find it? Point of full disclosure: This is a woman who once retrieved four U2 tickets out of a port-a-potty at the RBC Center after they fell out of the back pocket of my jeans. She's my hero. So, the answer was clear. I had to find the box.

It is moments like this one, however, that prompt me to wonder, "How did I get here?" I don't mean here on this earth, or here in North Carolina, but here in this crazy life where I leave my cell phone in the refrigerator or drop it in a puddle, lock my babysitter out of the house, lock my cleaning lady in the basement or spill mustard in a unfortunate spot on my dress. When did I become a modern-day Lucille Ball starring in my own personal comedy show with all of the self-deprecating humor at my own expense?

I guess I asked for it when I decided to have two children and two jobs - not to mention one husband and one puppy. It's a full life, but it's one that I wouldn't change one bit. Although, I'm still waiting for that $50 check.