Having a heart-to-heart over beef and beer is always a good idea, especially with someone who is oddly stuck in the same kettle of fish that you are.
Today I talked and felt better, if for no other reason than because someone was validating my thoughts, concerns, and neurosis. Plus, I always feel better when I'm full.
It must have triggered something inside me, all this talking, because after bowling and cake (oh sra we are devious cake-hoarders) I called up various members of my family and talked to them for hours about detention, cameras, and old men. I think my best friend wants to be a pilot; I think there's a very real chance I will be shleping in Barrie come September.
I prepared my mom for the possibility of my not getting in to teacher's college. This will (hopefully) make explaining the rejection letters easier in about three weeks' time. Perhaps she will feel sorry for me. Perhaps she will sadly envision dollar signs melting off my body symbolizing her poor investment and zero rate-of-return.
Oh the irony. Upon discovering "what you want to do with your life" you simultaneously discover that 'they' won't let you do it - even if you pay them. 'Waiting for life to begin' is a ridiculous way to explain what I'm feeling, because I am living my life right now and I enjoy it very much. However, I do feel like I'm on the moving sidewalk at the airport, but my flight's inexplicably delayed.
Perhap's it is snowing and I can't see outside.
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1 comment:
That, right there, is defensive pessimism!
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