Home of the Soul Cookie

The thought of going to my high school reunion next year pretty much terrifies me.

<irrationality>

I’ll go, and people will ask where I ended up going to college. Umm… Saddleback (a little bit), I’ll reply. I’m up to 15 units now, though!

They’ll fidget uncomfortably and ask me what I’ve been doing with myself. I got married. Congratulations, they’ll say. And then I got divorced.

(Quick, change the subject!) And work? Well, I worked in retail for almost 5 years. And I’ve been doing web design work for the last three years. But I’m gonna make a living as a professional writer… someday. And what have I written? Nothing of substance or import. Just some whining in a weblog that almost no one reads.

</irrationality>

By the Goddess, I have got that whining thing down, haven’t I?

My expectations for myself exist in a fantasy world aside time, space, and reality: You know those high school reunion movies where the geek comes back and is übersuccessful and megarich? Somewhere in the back of my mind, that was me.

News flash: didn’t happen!

I’m only just now starting to figure out and come to terms with who I am; I don’t feel “ready” to meet my former classmates, like it’s a test that I could pass if I just had one… more… day… to study and prepare.

The journey continues…