Unordinary Arguments With Kitchen Magnets
You stare at it.
“Go confidently in the direction of your dreams! Live the life you’ve always imagined.”
For a millisecond I think it says jeans. That would be so much better.
I stand in the kitchen wearing a grey cotton robe and sipping coffee. It’s Wednesday morning and my mind wanders to those who cared, and likely still do, but just aren’t around anymore.
Apparently people with social anxiety do this.
I consider the creator of this magnet. Does this person have any idea what it’s like to stride confidently into some unknown? Perhaps at this very moment he or she is pushing a ridiculous stroller up a suburban driveway where he or she has lived for years — maybe to drop little blobs of cookie dough onto a baking sheet and craft more pretentious prophecies based on famous quotes from polymaths like Thoreau.
I look around the empty apartment and think about buying a couch. There’s a ways to go before calling this beautiful unit “home,” but in the meantime who wants to sit on the floor?
On Sunday morning, I awoke in tears of loneliness. I wound up turning the day around and went to bed with a smile on my face. There are good days and there are bad.
Seeing good people and taking care of myself has been key.
It hasn’t been an easy process, moving cross-country solo. No one said it would be, but oh do they make it out to be that way.
Things will get easier.
The parts that ache, outside of the loneliness, is the drama of the past combined with the process of untangling the mystery of the present.
I thought I was too old to uproot my life again, but something positive that comes with age is patience.
There’s no rush to make it mine. And hey, life is gonna get weird no matter where I am or how long I’ve been there.
In the meantime, I distance myself from that drama and embrace the present. I ask myself the question — is this the life I’ve imagined? The answer is yes.
I re-adjust the magnet.
The drama of the day gives way to change.