Who Moved My Cheese?

Published 23.2.04 by Porkchop | E-mail this post

Letting go of old cheese.

At what point do you decide it is old enough to let go of? Or at what point do you decide that you hang on and ride it out for the really rough days? What if those rough days consist of every day?

My sad little heart has been shattered. I knew it was going to happen one of these days, and at least now it is over. Supposedly, we are on break, or something. But who are we kidding here?
I have resolved these things I will not do in a rash dramatic attempt to make a statement. I will not join the service, enlisted or otherwise, I will not cut or color my hair drastically, I will not binge eat, I will not become bitter or wallow in self pity, and I will not say anything I will regret later.

I supposed I am being a little drastic, this might not be the end. This might be just what we need, but I am trying to steel myself for the worst, and the most painful. I have always been wary of completely trusting people. I will not let this jade me! I will become stronger, more independant, develop a new skill, and invest my extra time in others. I will think big! Plan hugely for the future! I let myself dream bigger than ever, with nothing holding me back!

This odd narrative is my life. I ended up in Pittsburgh, of all places--from the beach. I have no hobbies, other than cooking excessively and eating microwave popcorn. I enjoy shopping, the Food network, hiding the remote so the Food network cannot be turned off, find ethnic food stores and restaurants and reading voraciously. My life is decidedly pedestrian.

I worked in the car business where I was required to be ruthless and soul-less wench, which is when I started this project. Since then, I've kept it up because secretly, I've always wanted to join the military. Every male in my mother's family has joined and I quietly entertain thoughts of joining. I haven't yet and don't know if I ever will, but sending the troops cookies keeps me sane. it makes me think I still have a shred of human kindness left in my withering soul. it's a small way for me to salute the men and women who are brave enough to fight for freedom. And makes me feel like I'm contributing toward troop morale--even if I'm not. So if you want to help, send me addresses of troops you know stationed overseas. you may also contribute toward the cost of chocolate chips, but don't feel obligated, that link is here only by request.

Who Moved My Cheese?

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