My poor body, my poor mind. I won't elaborate (yet), but just trust me on this one.
I remember buying a messenger bag at the House of Blues in Downtown Disney when I was 15 years old. The print on the bag was of the Tibetan Wheel of Life. Weird. I thought the bag was so "edgy" and felt rebellious each time I used it (I had no idea what it was/meant, mind you). Good Mormon girl with a bag that depicted something from some "exotic religion." Yeah. Right on. I wish I knew where that waaay overpriced bag was now.
I think I should have this printed on a picture of some stock photo of a rock climber scaling a rock face: "Decisions: You Make Some That Hurt Those You Love And You Make Some That Don't Hurt Those You Love And Sometimes You Can't Even Make Them." I would hang that poster up on my freaking wall and look at it all the freaking time because it is so freaking true.
I really can't please everyone and it tears me up inside.
So... Meg (me) moving to the Land of Ports (Portland). Your thoughts, please.
I want to write more, but something is stopping me. I don't know what it is. This writer's block needs to go away now.