The point?

I was sitting in my doc's office, killing time while a personal call was being wrapped up. I switched crossing my legs,and noticed my jean hem was flipped. The secretary told me to go in, before I could tame the errant denim.
While Doc perused my file, checking notes and asking basic questions, I pulled my leg up to play with the hem. Thinking I was curling up, Doc tried to re-open communication.
"Considered going to a dermatologist? The video you mentioned a friend shared seems to be important. It's the first thing that came to mind when I asked if you'd seen anything interesting."
"Perhaps, I seem to be on a health kick lately."
"Along with adventurous streak... new scar? Your ankle."
"Yeah... poison ivy. I'm really sensative to it. To avoid it spreading, it needed to be eraticated."
"So you chose a scar over maybe a week of discomfort?"
"I chose a scar over a month of spreading itchiness. I take a while to heal. I'm not a masochist."
We talked of other scars, stumbles, stories and hopeful adventures. Before I left, Doc asked what part of town would I want to live in. Near businesses like I am now, a quiet cul de sac or gated community,all shiney and new?
"Ah, Doc... I want a spot in the country, ivy be damned. Maybe in that, I am a masochist."
Doc closed my file, smiling.
"Guess that house must be worth the sting."
Now I just have to find it. Talk about dreaming big... I hate being in debt... But I dislike feeling like I'm tossing money away more.

Some lessons never learned

I want to learn, but don't think grad school is in my cards.
I'm learning to let go of some hopes. Like having my place be the one that's rarely quiet, usually home to anyone bored for a few hours. I figured I could create or re-create missed moments or play them out the way I wanted. I dreamed of happy parties, friends and family, chatter and activity. So I work my schedule, leaving large blocks to fill with people; much like Seniors in high school barely taking any classes to just hang with friends during school hours.
Time to grow up... realize that the days that made me happy cannot be copied or re-created.
Some knowledge hurts to know, some is only gleaned over and never fully understood, some changes you, other heals you... All I can do is forgive myself for mistakes made, hope to not repeat them and learn. The only things that I can influence cannot depend on anyone else. A few may choose to watch me on my way, but my lessons are my own. I've been selective in the people that can pause me, ask me of many things, and change my perspectives.
Yet some lessons remain out of grasp, with no equitable compromise or substitution. I cannot let go of the wish to fill my time with happy voices, even if I've yet to meet their sound. But I can stop wishing to demand your time, even if I don't scream it, but whisper.
So now my job search will be with fewer borders, but must help me achieve some dreams.
I want that house I dream of, the dog and gardens. Things, I know... but the few aspects I can create. So when visits are made, I can offer more than one couch; entertainment not dependent on cable and space for you and loves to steal away to. If my fortune changes, I'll greet what comes. But wishing should be reserved for the more innocent... some dreams never come true.

sorry for the delay

Hi luvs. I've been a bit busy, but more so dealing with lots of stuff. We've all got baggage, and mine (recently) got a bit heavy. I partly did it to myself, and had or having a run of bad luck. I wake each day hoping for things to go my way, but know that can't be the case always. Tis just been a while... but oh well.
So you already know I cried hard for the 1st time since putting my ex behind me. You know it WAS NOT because of feelings for him, but anger at myself for not making the sweeping changes I desire in my life. And that I was utterly Pissed Off that someone I consider a deficient human being should not be allowed to smile. Especially when I have trouble remembering when exactly I had a moment of bliss. But that's just my vanity showing; that I consider myself a good person, choosing to be incapable of the atrocities a lot of "sweet people" can do. I'm not the judge and jury, but secretly wish I could be executioner, to some that handed in their nice cards a long time ago (if they ever actually had one). I'm exhausted that overgrown car salesmen (ie, Ex), waltz through life, while I struggle with the steps.
The timing was rough, but when it not?
I had started to open up, to hope for what I thought were impossible dreams. I shared them... and in each path I tried to walk, got kicked in the stomach. I know that progress has been made... but dammit... I'm greedy now. I see things going good & bad...and wish for either! I'm tired of feeling behind. I know it's not a race... but I can do this... I want in to the game. I've been an adult since I was 12... I have the responsible part down... where's the fun shit?
"Come to the darkside...we have cookies"... Sorry..I'll stick with this pile of crap.
So as I try to wade through the disrupted images in my head, placing them back and tossing the ones I want to delete, I'll try to remember to post.
Been missing you... wish we weren't all stressed. Life's running quick for all of ya... the quiet is driving me natty.