On the Street Where I Live

July 21 marks 6 months into my crazy, dangerous year. I cannot believe how quickly time has passed; how easily my days have filled. In the last 180 days, for every hour of productive, value-adding activity, I have spent another 2 hours spinning my wheels, going left instead of right and backward not forward.  When the world is your oyster and the sky is the limit, finding true north and setting your course is damned difficult, if not impossible. Think shoe clearance at Nordstrom. 31 amazing Baskin-Robbins flavors. The display case at Korb's Bakery. What do I choose? What do I choose? What do I choose?

Lest I remind you, this was my year to live dangerously and FULLY.  My luxurious, self-indulgent freedom to do whatever I want within financial and legal boundaries. Have I wasted 1,920 precious hours? To what to I attribute this time in my Good Girl Gant Chart? If time is money, have I squandered my savings?


I am exactly where I am supposed to be. I'm learning to listen and remain open without judgement. I refuse to self-flagellate. I am happy. I've explored some opportunities that I would not have even NOTICED were I still in corporate mode. Yep, almost none of them have made me rich or even made a dent in the monthly mortgage payment. But. Dancing with 12 amazing octogenarians in an Alzheimer's ward? Snoozing on the couch with a very special man? Laughing with my cousins? Drinking coffee with new friends? Time well spent.

Yesterday the cosmos gave me an interesting gift in celebration of my six-month anniversary. A fortune from a cookie eaten at least a year ago fluttered out of its hiding place in my wallet.

Happiness is around the next corner, wealth is down the street.

I am exactly where I am supposed to be.


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