Sunday, March 23, 2014

Who Moved My Bliss?

Conversation I had with myself at 3:20 this morning:

Wow. How did I end up like this? I have no passion. For anything. I can't recall that I ever did. I wish... I don't know what I wish. I remember when I was about eight years old. That was the one and only time I ever saw a shooting star. I can't remember what I wished for, but I do remember squeezing my eyes shut tight and wishing with all the power of my eight year old self possessed. I can't ever remember being passionate about anything, even as a child. I was born middle aged. I had toys, sure, but I didn't play with them. I just organized shit. Sorted and labeled and bagged it all up. Why am I so.... lukewarm? I watch shows like The Voice or America's Got Talent and see these kids, basically, that just know what they want to do. Hell, I'm looking down the barrel of 40 and I have no flippin' clue what I want to be when I grow up. I really don't want to grow up. I am jealous of those who go their whole life pursuing one goal, one dream, one passion. What is my passion? How does one go about finding their passion? Seriously. How do I find that? I've had interests, sure. Hobbies, even. But a passion? A dream? A personal "bliss"? Nope. Nada. This realization kinda makes me sad. If I could go back and talk to my eight year old self, I don't even know what I would say to her. "Sorry, but you're gonna flounder through life. Good luck with that." Somehow, I don't think that would work out too well. So, am I in the minority? Do most people have passion about something and I am just more out of whack than I originally thought? Or am I like the majority and there are fewer people that just know what they want out of life? I often wonder how my life would have turned out if I had made different choices in life. I know everyone does the "what-if" game and it really serves no purpose, really. Even doing the "what-if" game, I can't figure out where I would be or what I would be doing.

Looking back now, I may have told my eight-year old self to play more. Just be a kid and stop worrying about EVERYthing. Or I might have told her to invest in Apple and don't worry about it. Oh, well. "What-if"s aren't going to get the dishes washed.....

Wednesday, March 5, 2014

This Post Pretty Much Wrote Itself

I just got home from the dentist. I had a couple of cavities filled. I was supposed to have three done, but instead, I got two filled and one temporary filling. When she got into that third one, she realized it was way deeper than she thought. I wouldn't have minded if she'd went ahead and filled it, though. Because of two little words.

Nitrous. Oxide.

Here's a rundown of my thoughts while high on laughing gas. (Which, by the way, didn't make me want to laugh at all.)

-I wonder if I should tweet about this?
-OMG. I wasn't paying attention. Did she say to close or NOT close my mouth?
-Do I look like a dying fish with my mouth hanging open like this?
-I've never seen "How I Met Your Mother"
-Ooooooooh, Maroon 5 is on the radio. Maybe I'll drift off into sex with Adam Levine dreams.... (No such luck, though. Bummer.)
-My feet feel like they're floating...
-Why is the upper half of my body still but my legs are doing the hula hoop in opposite directions?
-I should get a manicure. I bet they're looking at my gnarly fingers and thinking the same thing.
-I want a pet opossum. I'll call him Petey and I'll love him forever. Or until he bites me.
-Did she just tell the assistant to crank it up to make me MORE comfortable?!
-Was that my phone? Shit. I thought I silenced it. (side note: I didn't silence it, but I'm not popular anyway so I was just hearing things. The phone didn't actually ring.)
-I should have eaten more than just Lucky Charms...
-Man. Each sound I hear has a different color. And I can feel them bumping against me.
-Maybe they should turn this shit down a litte.... Nah.

And then I was done. For the time being, anyway. I have to go back next week to get the other
filling(s). And yes, I'm boarding the Nitrous train again then, too.

My final thought as I was coming out of my gas-induced stupor was:
            My mouth may hurt, but at least my toes look smashing!!