I'm Out of Foolproof Ideas

Right now, I feel like donning a poncho, tacking a giant map to the wall, closing my eyes, and splattering paint all over it. Wherever the drops fall, I'll consider moving to when December rolls around. It seems so far away, but I spent an hour cyber-stalking myself just now (I mean, someone has to. might as well be me) and a year is like the batting of an eye.

whoosh It's your roommate's birthday, and then 
bam your precarious trip to Denver (which you spend avoiding the things that brought you there in the first place), then 
whoa it's spring break, then 
yes! you're blowing out candles on a cupcake at a cafe in Paris, then 
ugh you're in summer classes (and summer dresses :), then 
already? it's Labor Day weekend, then 
suddenly it's Halloween, 
now Thanksgiving, 
and Christmas.

A year as a child lasted the length of forever. An afternoon was a year. Summer break was a decade.

And this is life now. Each day rushing past at the speed of light, except when you're waiting on a bad-news phone call or in the middle of the night as sleep eludes you.

People always made it seem like adulthood would bring perspective, experience, understanding. Breaking the remote or eating the last Oreo caused sheer, instant, utter panic in my nine-year-old self. Clearly, insignificant in the grand scheme.

So, what is it that ties me up in knots or makes me nauseous or gets me pumped up that will become a flash in the pan in one year's span? I have a few guesses.

This is the cleanest New Year's slate I've had in (literally) years now. And next year? I may ring in the New Year on a mountain or the beach or as a neighbor to my Nana or eloping with the gondola man I met on my birthday or knitting sweaters for penguins on the North Pole (or is it South Pole? fine, at the zoo then. sheesh).

Life, fair warning. 
Whatever happens, 
I plan to relish you this year, 
and the year after that, 
and the year after that,

Sarah :: Plucky in Love

Sarah, aka "Plucky", blogs on the reg, unless she's on vacation or there's a Pretty Little Liars marathon or she's mulling over the implications of the phrase "on fleek." She can't live without iced coffee, a portable phone charger, or equal pay. Say hello!

No comments:

Post a Comment