Day Before Doomsday
Like you have to ask what that means?
So, Saturday, I joined my church. I stood in front of the congregation with a group of others and agreed to the questions, to the commitments, and said my name into the microphone as it was passed to me. I filled out my form, explaining the transfer of membership from a church I have not attended in more than fifteen years, at least, not regularly. I let them take my picture, though it was against my better judgement. Then, amid surprise and questions, I fled as quickly as I could willing people to not see me, not know me. Still, it’s done and another resolution is complete. This was Resolution Eight. Resolution Two is still holding firm and Resolution Nine is progressing slowly, but steadily, as I have lost three pounds so far.
I’m not looking forward to tomorrow. It’s never been a particularly good day for me. Usually, I find myself freshly single, but with everything purchased, or reserved, and in hand, but no longer with a purpose. The emptiest of empty gestures. Too little, too late. The sentiment of a one way street with oncoming traffic. Perhaps tomorrow would have been better this year if I could dance further away from Resolution One. How does that line go? The first one is always the hardest? Well, I have always thought of them as guidelines more than actual, concrete, achievable goals. Honest. Really.
And, I try not to think too hard about how I have books that are older than most of the women I’m interested in at all. Generally, not a good place for me to head, mentally. And, to be honest, I’m not sure it helps that some of them, one of them, returns the interest. Life was so much easier when I pined silently, alone, unknown and unknowable from the shadows. Life is simple, but I complicate it so. Too much thought in too many directions all to avoid the most obvious.
Resolutions Thirteen and Fourteen have proven far more challenging than I’d anticipated. Thirteen being more difficult to internalize than I’d ever thought possible. Fourteen providing such odd and unexpected results. Enigmatic responses sent wirelessly, like a digital fortune cookie: “Change is coming… In due time”
Where are my lucky numbers?
