Slapped In The Face By Reality

One whirlwind weekend trip has come and gone and I feel like I have been slapped in the face by reality. I am exhausted, mentally and emotionally spent in ways that I never would have guessed. It required far more to get myself ready to go on the trip than it should have, but sometimes that is how it goes.

And then once I was out the door it was a series of events that at times were uplifting as well as moments that were shocking. I’d like to say that the entire trip was just one big high but the rules of the blog dictate complete honesty and well…

Well…, there were some moments that surprised me. There were moments that left me feeling a bit like I had been punched in the gut and wondering WTF just happened. At one point Saturday night I am confident that I must have looked like I had seen a ghost.

For lack of a better description I had a pseudo-revelation that was completely unexpected and am still trying to digest it all. The funny thing about this revelation is that even though I had it, I don’t quite know what to make of it. It felt a bit like the universe tapped me on the shoulder and told me that I want this but didn’t give me a clue as to how to make it happen.

I spent a few hours late Saturday night trying to figure out what my next move is and ended up thoroughly frustrated. I think I know what I want to do. I suspect that I have a plan that will work, but I am not sure. Truth is that I am sure of everything and nothing.

Forgive me for my melodrama, but this blog was birthed in fire. I really didn’t get the feel of how to do it all until I was in the middle of a crisis and then things just clicked. Since then this joint has served its role of chronicling the ups and downs of my life.

I often say that I can’t wait until I have nothing to write about because my life is dull, steady and boring. But something tells me that it is never going to happen. Life doesn’t stop. There is always going to be something going on.

Especially in my world, that is just how it is. Where I walk the earth shakes and it is not because I need to go on a diet. What a wacky thing.


Sunday was far smoother than Saturday night. Even though I hadn’t quite figured out what to make of everything, I had regained some balance and perspective. By the time I hit the runway I was beginning to feel like I had a small inkling of what to do about everything.

Then came a grueling plane ride. Screaming children, airplane noise, lack of food and a raging headache wreaked havoc on the almost zen like state I had achieved.

By the time we landed I was in the land of crankiness and was relishing the thought of clubbing baby seals and stomping on sand castles. I was ready for food, quiet and my own bed, in that order.

Since I was famished I decided that the best course of action was to stop on the way home and grab something to eat. Of course I managed to stop at three different restaurants that were closing as I got there. One guy kind of snapped at me, “we’re closed.”

Wrong thing to say. I barked back that if they were closed it would be wise to lock the door, flip the sign to read closed and to treat customers who walk in as if they were a customer and not the food critic for the local newspaper.

Needless to say his attitude changed, but I left anyway. I am not the food critic. I get it, they want to go home and that is cool with me. Just no reason for him to be a jerk. Eventually I got some food into my system and puttered around the house before I collapsed in my bed.

And now I am sitting at my desk staring at all of the work I left for today. I had this silly dream that it would magically disappear. Of course I was slapped in the face by reality, so I probably should go and get back to it.

Life is something, isn’t it.

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