...and all you can do is dance. Or cry. Or run screaming away from everything.
And none of those are particularly viable options, but you still think about it and lament your circumstances/life/how nothing has turned out the way you thought it would. Which brings you right back to the present (if you are lucky) and looking down at where my feet are and realizing that actually, right here, right now, I am okay. Everything is okay. Not horrific and not awesome, but okay. And some days, that's as good as it gets.
As a child I dreamed about how perfect my life would be if my real parents ever found me, because obviously, I had been switched at birth and given to the wrong people. This only became more and more apparent the older I got. Then as a teenager, I thought that things would be really great if I could just get out on my own. Make my own decisions, my own plans. As a 30 something year old, I was in a position to see where I had taken myself, with all my grand ideas...it was nowhere near what I thought it would be. Again. Now, as a sexagenarian (look it up-- it's not what you're probably thinking...although....lol) I walk through the hallways of my mind, wondering what the hell happened ? The other night I was sitting here thinking about when I ran away from Illinois to live in California. A life changing time of unimaginable proportions. I was 23. I had a 5 year old boy. I was insane, and drunk a lot. I met this really nice guy (and how did I
know that ?) in a bar one night while playing pool. He was going back to southern California where he had lived while in the Marine Corps. Hated Illinois. I hated Illinois too. He couldn't wait to leave and did I want to go ? The more I drank the better it sounded. Anyway...I digress. I was sitting here the other night trying to remember his name. I kind of think it was Joe. I can almost see his face... olive skinned, dark curly hair, blazing black eyes. But maybe that is someone else.
God knows there have been a lot of faces in this bizarre parade that I call my life. But that was a pretty momentous occasion. You'd think I would remember it. Alas...I cannot pull that particular tidbit out of my sexagenarian hat. (You know I'm going to be using that word all the time now, right ? For at least the next 5 years. bahahahaha). So many things are lost in my booze and drug crippled brain that I will never be able to retrieve. On a bright note though, the time of my death (when your life flashes before your eyes) should be delayed a while, going through all this crap piled up in my inaccessible memory banks. So, there's that.
Last night we had a nasty little dog fight here. One sister dog stepped on a smaller sister dog (accidentally) waking her out of a deep sleep and setting off a fight of epic proportions. They have never done this. I couldn't get the big dog off her. There was a decent bite and lots of blood and much fear and screaming (on my part). I was up at midnight doing my best CSI job of cleaning up the blood all over the carpets and floors. And trying to clean up the leg to see how bad it really was. (Not so much, certainly not like it looked, considering all that blood). Trying to calm down little dog and not punish the other one TOO much. Molly and Bella have always gotten along well, and I really think that this was a case of her being startled by being stepped on and then self defense. And we all know how that goes.
Add that to some other events from the weekend and I was over the edge. But, once again-- where are my feet. I don't have to run away or hide or fight or do any of a million other things I have been known to do in the past. I just have to accept that... into each life, some rain must fall. This life will never be perfect. I will never be perfect. I can only do the best I can and hope like hell it's good enough. And it usually is. (I guess....since I'm still alive and kicking).
Life goes on. Things work out (or they don't). I heard someone say once "If I start hitting too many roadblocks, I just change where I'm going." Maybe it's time I change where I'm going. Or maybe I need to sit still. because, as we know...it's important to
Love, The Sexagenarian.