At some point we will stop pinching ourselves in the semiconcious reality that these are our lives. We will put on a bold face and climb out from under the covers where we've hid from the monster under our beds or in our closets, and we will know that we know that we know that these are our lives. We'll know that we haven't missed the pink slip excusing us from the rest of the story and that we won't have to do things someday, but that someday is today. And that sometimes someday was yesterday and we missed the memo. Only there isn't the quitting, or firing, or excusing, or forgetting option we used to have. Today is all there is left of the first part of our lives and these sands are filling up the bottom of a glass which can't be flipped -- only one time to get it all right.
At some point that thought will stop being so overwhelming. Someday. Not today.
