I forget what day it is. I wonder why I’m still here. I fail to find what I’m looking for. 

Some days I get upset thinking about how many years I wasted working for the man, living that picket fence life, and not wanting anything more than I had. 

Other days I second guess that disgruntled feeling. Didn’t I just have it all? Happy and oblivious of having more purpose. Way back when, the point of living was just to live. Was that better than now and I’ve gotten confused in my pursuit of more?

Maybe there was a reason I didn’t write for 15 years. Maybe it was because I didn’t need it. And then one day I snapped. Or rather was snapped. Bent and broken and found myself lost and searching for answers. 

How many times have I thought about that moment—those moments? Too many. The story written and rewritten in essay after essay, poem after poem, bit by bit until I was whole again. 

This is where I find myself today. Whole again but with an insatiable desire to do more and be more. Like there’s a beast deep inside that was stirred from slumber all those years ago and will not rest. It eats me from the inside out and will not let me rest. Why can’t I just rest?

Why can’t I just enjoy the happy medium of a well balanced life with both purpose and obliviousness? 

Good gravy I think I’m asking the Universe for a vacation from my newly found charmed life. A break from being the “Unsuspecting Cinderella.” A kitchen pass for a weekend away by my damn self. 

You see how this is such a puzzle? I don’t even know how to begin. Beginning used to be my jam. Pick up a pen and start anywhere. It doesn’t matter. Everything is a trigger. Every town a new opportunity to create something brilliant. 

I still have a lot to say. 

I blew a gasket this week…

I had a personal communication from an editor of a reputable magazine giving me edit suggestions on a poem I submitted…

I kicked myself for my inability to self promote and also for my hatred of social media…

My “good daughter” duties got the best of me and usurped every other damn objective I had…

I picked a fight…

I daydreamed about going postal in the Verizon store on Maple street…

I wondered if my newly prescribed pharmaceuticals were the reason for the rise in my temperature and temper…

I didn’t write one damn thing (save this)…

And right on que, the song “It’s the end of the world as we know it (and I feel fine)” pops into my ear. / Thanks Universe!

I really have nothing more to offer. What a waste. 

Peace, 

~Miss SugarCookie