Riddle me this: When my manager tells me to pick up the pace, and rush customers in and out of the jewelry store within 60 seconds, is it acceptable to inform him that I'm not working the McDonald's Drive-Thru, honey? You don't get fries with these diamonds, hot pants. This raises another question for me-- is it acceptable, if one's life is endangered by management of an establishment, to leave a job without notice? I did once play Johnny Paycheck as I left a radio station, but that was more for laughs. My program director and I are old friends. THIS guy, this current guy... no.

And the Book tells us, we need only Faith the size of a Mustard Seed. We can then tell the Mountain to move, and it will move. The meek shall inherit the earth, and the mustard shall move mountains.

So I ...

...went out to dinner. Because everyone told me to. Which is an awful reason to go to dinner. Because I'm a great cook. Because he was rude to the waiter. And me. Really quite. But I drove myself. Because my defense mechanisms are on pointe. Which enabled me to be home thirty-three minutes from the beginning of the date. So I... Think I'll stay home next time.

It's Like This

I avoided him.

I thought he was too persistent. Too pursuant. Too insistent. Then he grew on me, like algae.

I dated others, and like a monstrous disaster, the sandhills of those relationships fluttered away. All the while, he was there, chipping at me, like a consistent wind.

Then, I fell. Deeply, passionately in love. As if there was a tidal wave that had overtaken me with joy and swept me out to sea I fell for him. It lasted three months before his mother decided she couldn't share him with another woman.

Then, I fell out. And it is as if I had been on a vacation and taken no pictures. I remember nothing of the trip.

Like Breezy.

I usually get goosebumps when I feel wind beneath my arms like this.

Today, I think maybe it's wind beneath my wings, and I've finally let go enough to fly.

Career: check.

Home: purchased.

Debt: gone.

Book: published and second one on the way.

The wind isn't cold. It's flight season. What can I see from this height?

Like sugar-free chocolate.

It's guiltless, but it's not that good, either.

I had lunch with an old boyfriend today. You know it's over when you meet to eat at the same time, at the same table, and there isn't a whole lot of eye contact. We're friends. We're the cool kind of friends-- the kind who are professionally well-connected in town, so we can establish pretty much whatever favor the other may need, should that need arise.

We ate chicken strips and discussed his boat, bus and motorcycle, the weather and my publishing contract. We talked about our parents, and how they're all healthy, thank God. We touched on sheeple. We run in the same political mindset, so much so that we don't have to get worked up about it over lunch. We'll save those discussions for a non-public setting.

We arrived at the location without incident and said goodbye without drama. It was lunch without the intense interaction. It was nice. Like guiltfree, sugarfree candy.

That was a river. This is an ocean.

Let the painful, salty sand slip from between your hands.

It does you no service, pays you no mind.

The whole ocean is yours now, 

With it,

The sands of time, space and all of the wisps and whims of the air.

Who knew?

To grasp hold of everything, you simply had to let go.