March rolls around. Another quarter winding down and our financial report is….dismal. We’re a sinking ship. One amongst a swarming sea of sinking ships.
I want to slap you. I want to put a shiny piece of duct tape across your mouth and walk away. I’m not blind to you, but you are under-cutting all of the work I’m doing and you are in danger of impairing my ability to work and be happy. It’s only by firmly recognizing that I am part of the wheel and being honest with friends, that I’m keeping you from making my throat catch with anxiety and my brain freeze to inaction.
Point 2: You’re EVERYwhere, and change is slowly being made. I applaud that. I don’t know how you can be so productive and yet so fearful. So… let’s compromise. Please don’t take offense when I stop spending real amounts of time with you. Maybe “It’s not you, it’s me.”
I reject your reality and insert my own.
Because, Donut Holes.
“You may say I’m a Dreamer, but I’m not the only one. I’m hoping someday you’ll join us, and the world will live as One.”
(Who starts a post with NIN and ends it with John Lennon, anyway?!)