I realized it today. Okay, so maybe today wasn’t the first day that I realized it, but it definitely was the icing on the cake. I looked into the abyss of my current situation and realized that I needed to find a way out. I hadn’t blogged in months. I hadn’t written one sentence, paragraph, or chapter in weeks. I’d had my vacation status posted on my website for so long, that folks must’ve assumed me dead. I was tired, feeling helpless and I wanted to punch people. No really...I wanted to throat punch people. I felt bad for my husband. Always at my side, always my sounding board. Gosh, I love this man! I don’t know how he could possibly put up with another tale of woe from the workplace, yet he did. Here I was helping myself to another slice of deep-dish pizza. I’d gained fifteen pounds within the last year. Sure, my husband said the extra junk in the trunk was a turn-on, but having to purchase new clothes was now becoming expensive. Not to mention, I didn’t feel good about my curvaceous new outline. I was suffering from anxiety attacks, hives, and migraines that wiped me out. It was time for a change.

I could write a book (and perhaps I will) on the who, what and why’s of my stress...but ultimately the fault lies with me. I didn’t follow my gut and I gave more of myself than I truly had to give. Looking back now, one thing is certain; I’ve decided to become better rather than bitter. I’ve come to terms with what does and does not work for my soul. I have learned to say goodbye to people in my life who make more withdrawals than deposits. I am confident enough to keep walking past an okay opportunity, en route to the perfect opportunity. I’m okay with sitting this one out because I just don’t feel the need to impress upon anyone just how deserving I am of their acceptance. I no longer accept society’s standards for living, because, in truth, they rarely jive with mine.

Wooo-saaa…is the sound you make when you refuse to take another Advil, but instead opt to ride this mutha out. Seventeen…the number of beads you patiently count on your Mala bracelet, while praying for the peace of mind. Green…the color of tea that you sip to soothe your, raw from crying throat. Four hundred and forty-four…words in a blog that dismiss a filtered, picture-perfect image, for the realistic, sepia-colored Polaroid. Please excuse the mess, I’m currently under construction.