Crossroads
I have a choice to make. It is a simple choice, but not an easy one, as all the most monumental choices seem to be. I am not living the life I want to live, and I’m in one hell of a tantrum over it. My discontent goes beyond the realization that my circumstances look nothing like I thought they would. It leaves childhood and societal expectations in the dust. It flourishes even in the wake of my awareness and gratitude for the things I have. And I’ve about worn myself out. Because I am, according to all outward indices, an adult, however, no one is going to pick me up off the floor and hand me a snow cone or piece of Bazooka to make me feel better.
I must make a choice:
- Revert to old, self-destructive behaviour, choosing isolation, self-pity and inspired rage over how unfair I perceive life to be;
- Remain in a heap on the floor, stuck in complete inaction, numbing myself out with caffeine and fantasy; or
- Heave myself up onto my feet, trusting that no matter the mess I’ve made or the wobbliness of my stance, I can move forward – in a new direction, choosing a different path, to chart a different course.
OR…
I could end up on a semi-deserted island with Josh Holloway…
Hey, anything’s possible, right?
So, I’m gonna roll the dice on Option #3. After I take a nap. This floor is kinda comfy. And I’ll listen to your story – where is your road taking you?
lacochran
/ April 6, 2009I vote for a combination.
Wallow briefly, then haul yourself up and move on.
lacochran’s last blog post.."Bite back…" –The All American Rejects
molly
/ April 9, 2009I can totally relate to the floor. I love my kitchen floor like that. Glad you chose #3!
molly’s last blog post..a matter of time.
emmajames
/ April 10, 2009Locochran: That is exactly what decided. Though “briefly” is subjective…
Molly: Thanks! And welcome to Pleasure Notes! Now I wanna know what your kitchen floor looks like…