When your life begins to resemble a plot twist in a "hope we get to Sundance independent film that features b-list actors and the word quirky in the tagline", it's time to re-think your choices. Of late, I feel like I've been banging my head against a relational wall and looking around for who I have to pay for the pleasure of the pain!
Am I complaining that my own choices have netted me too many nights listening to the non-silence of apartment living (what are those people building on the second floor?)? Well, yes and no. I'm weary of waiting for the next phase of my so-called love life, or maybe I should say lack-of-love-life. But I have no delusions going that anyone else is responsible for where I am other than little old me. (And if I keep on this self-sabatoging path "little" will have little to do with describing me and "old" will look truer than it has in quite some time.)
So this morning when I was assessing my life in my favorite assessing place -- the shower -- I decided it was time to kick ass -- my own. I am not giving up on me or allowing myself to let go of wanting something more. I am not going to accept some script fashioned by someone other than me. I may not be a great writer but I know this material better than anyone.
And just like those independent film folks, I intend to be a triple threat -- writer, producer and star.
I am ready for my close up.