Living the ‘Best’ Life? It’s Somewhere Between Dessert and a Decaf

“Are you living your best life?” Wendy asks.

Huh?

“Your best life,” she says. “Are you living the best life that you can possibly live?” Nervous glances shoot around the table, Beth to B.K. to me, bing, boing, bing. Ack! What kind of question is this for an innocent little Girls’ Night Out?

“I love my life,” Nancy says. “So I guess I’d say yes.”

“Me, too,” Wendy says wistfully.

Beth stirs her noodles. B.K. stares into her merlot. I’m with them. I don’t want to answer. “I don’t even understand the question,” I say.

“It’s a stupid question,” Beth says.

“It’s just something I heard on ‘Oprah,’” Wendy says. “You don’t have to answer.”

Good, then. We sit in silence. All you can hear is cutlery clanking. That, and the ringing of a bell you most certainly can’t un-ring. Best life? Um. See, if I were living my best life I probably wouldn’t have ordered the ravioli. I would have gotten boiled fish, something high in Omega-3 fatty acids, something good for me. Good, bad. Best, worst. A life isn’t a restaurant, or a movie you can review. Or is it?

“Well, did Oprah say she was living her best life?” Nancy asks. “I must have missed that episode.”

“How do you guys have time to watch ‘Oprah’?” Beth says, in a tone that suggests having time to watch “Oprah” is a red flag indicating your best life might definitely be eluding you.

Hmm. Well, it is interesting to note that our two best-lifers here are the daytime-TV watchers. Maybe living your best life just means you’re able to relax a little?

“Living your best life depends on your standards,” I conclude. “Some of us are tougher on ourselves than others.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” B.K. says.

“We are not having our best Girls’ Night Out,” Beth says.

“It’s just something to think about,” Wendy says. Nancy agrees. She thinks it’s normal to wonder. Beth says no, it’s not. She says it’s a privilege of the privileged to wonder. “The starving people in Afghanistan don’t have the luxury of wondering if they’re living their best lives,” she says. B.K. agrees, pointing out that if we were really living our best lives, we wouldn’t be sitting around asking ourselves this question.

Hmm. Good point. I should be figuring out a way to patch the ozone layer instead of worrying about my fatty-acid consumption.

“It was just a question I heard on ‘Oprah,’” Wendy says meekly.

“This is our worst Girls’ Night Out,” Nancy says.

The waiter comes over. Thank heavens. “Would you ladies like to see dessert menus?” he says. We scan the menus. “Is getting the fat-free yogurt leading your best life,” Nancy says, “or is getting the double-chocolate nut-fudge pie your best life?”

“There’s the question,” Wendy says. “Is it discipline or is it grabbing the gusto?”

Beth and B.K. order a cup of decaf; Nancy and Wendy decide to split a banana split.

And, doesn’t that say it all?