here i am, year 39. i feel like i could step back into the dorms of cate center or the barracks of scholfield at any minute; i could make a left into the girl's gym of 3100 n kelley or go dig behind the bed for my rubber alligator and circa 1973 shiny rose colored matchbox jaguar.
but i refocus and see the evidence of my folly: an apartment that becomes exceedingly cluttered by the day, monthly train tickets that remind me of my daily 1.5 hour ONE WAY commute, the stack of bills on my divorce-trophy retrieval scandinavian wooden table threatening to wipe out an entire rain forest with its sheer bulk.
my only thoughts consist of asking if my life has reached its zenith ... and what can i do to escape this mess?
i dunno - what do you do when 40 years of age is 364 days, 23 hours, and 28 minutes away and RACING TOWARDS YOU? yes, billions of others have passed this question long behind them in the road of life, but it is now staring me down, front and center.
that is what i cannot decide.
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