There are bugs in life.

You know the sound. The zip of a mosquito by your ear. It's bedtime. You swat and miss. You turn of the light, knowing you're going to be his dinner. The horror of waking up with 12 fresh mosquito bites. You say a silent prayer hoping you don't have west nile. You finally squash the bug. It's a bittersweet victory. And your day continues. 

There's a quote our family friend, Sherry Bryant, uses often: "If you've ever thought you were too small to be effective, you've never been in bed with a mosquito." 

The other night I went out for dinner with some friends. The place was Pal Joeys in Batavia, along the river. It was beautiful. The breeze, the view, the sunset. 

I work most weekends so an actual night out is a rare treat. The wine was cold and the food was really good. I've always felt that if a restaurant can master fried calamari, you're in good hands. 

As the darkness grew, the bugs began to dance around the light posts. I knew my legs were being dined upon by mosquitoes. We considered a move, but the scenery was worth it. We sat for about 2 hours. 

The next morning I woke and counted the mosquito bites. Fourteen. 

I thought about how the night parallels so many things in life- Love with heart break. Opportunities with doors that eventually close. Friendships that fade away.

In my opinion, it boils down to perspective. What's worth remembering? Would you have walked that path again, knowing the outcome? 

Some parts of life (mosquitoes included) suck. But the choice comes into play with what you choose to remember as being most important.