Content. Desiring no more than what one has; satisfied.

Complacent. Contented to a fault; self-satisfied and unconcerned.

I always tell everyone, including Jean of riceandsoup, that it’s possible and important to find satisfaction outside of work. In fact, I have never found work to be all that wonderful. I have never woken up in the morning eager to get to work. And most of the people I know work because they have to, not because they love to.

When I was on the career track, I was competitive and ambitious. (I’ve probably harped on this before.) I thrived in the academic environment and did well. There was no doubt in everyone’s mind that I would eventually become a professor or researcher just like them. But I had my doubts.

There were several things that made me think I couldn’t be like everyone else. The most formidable, of course, was that my husband was on another continent with a job that would require us to move every few years. I didn’t want to have a long-distance marriage and I didn’t want to give up on my marriage even though a couple of people suggested that if he couldn’t find a way to support my career, he might not be the right one for me (in other words, get a divorce).

I also couldn’t imagine myself either choosing not to have children or having them but not being able to spend enough time with them. I did not want to be at work until 7 p.m. or later almost every night and go in on the weekends as well. Work was challenging, stimulating, and rewarding, but my heart wasn’t in it.

Basically, I’m lazy. If I can get by and feel happy with less, that’s fine with me. I spent most of my school days doing just enough to get an A, but not enough to be perfect. I also found that being high on stress is fun for a while, but it will still be stress (my bowels can attest to that).

The life I have now as a stay-at-home mother suits me. I spend each day with my favorite person in the world, Stephen, supported by my second most favorite person in the world, Marv. I have time to read more than I ever have before–books, magazines, newspapers, blogs, etc. And because I blog every day, I even process most of what I read. Best of all, I don’t have to adhere to a strict schedule and don’t usually have to haul myself out the door before 9 in the morning.

One of the most popular TV shows today is Desperate Housewives (of which I’ve only seen clips on Oprah), a drama featuring the plight of wives and mothers in suburbia. The main message seems to be that it’s impossible for any woman to truly feel happy and satisfied with her life. Everyone has dark secrets. If we appear to be well-adjusted and fulfilled, we must be faking it or are zombies.

I don’t buy it.

Am I content or have I become complacent? I am content. I might not feel this way tomorrow, next month, or next year, but that’s how I feel today. If things change in the future, I will adapt and find a happy new equilibrium. But I will never become complacent. If you don’t believe me, keep reading.

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