More like annoyed. Girls weekend was a blast, but, I should have known a weekend with my chicas would leave little time for introspection. Hard to contemplate life's meaning when nursing a hangover.
Do I have great stories, you bet. But what happens in Wildwood, stays in Wildwood.
There is one story I can share.
We are a brutally honest bunch, you think I am opinionated, BAH! They are worse than me. My friend is an avid reader of Romance and Women's Fiction. She loves my story. She would read on, wants to read on. Flattering, yes, but we are told not to put full stock in friends and families opinions.
But, she told me how disappointed she'd be if I quit.
Well, I told her to join the club. Chugged my beer and shrugged my shoulders.
All my girls then jumped on me, asking why or how I could think of giving up. It wasn't me, not in my nature.
Maybe I am not a quitter, but a realist. I thought I was the daydreamer, the kid who always dreamed big. Now as an adult trying to bring such dreams to fruition, I am left a cynic. Not a glass half empty girl... More like some prick never bothered to fill the glass all the way up.
Jipped, jilted. Left wanting, no, expecting more.
Yet, here I am. Still in a fog. In a funk. But not rolling over and playing dead. Just toying with the notion. Tune into Part 2 Tuesday...
