Wavering Willy

PathWhen I see terrorists or political uprisings on TV my primary reaction isn’t fear, but jealousy.  To be singularly devoted to something, totally sure of where you stand on an all-consuming issue – that would seriously streamline my days.  Take Tonya, for example – great girl, pretty, good job, nice, everyone likes her.  I wish I could just feel that overwhelming sense of surety my brother has when he talks about asking Marla to marry him and knowing he wanted her to have his children.  I mean, wow – I can barely decide whether or not I want to deal with introducing Tonya to people at the office summer BBQ, nevermind the two of us popping out some kids.  And I’m sure I wouldn’t be able to pick strong, singular names for them, so she would end up naming them after her drunks uncles and grandmothers.  Then I’d be sitting in a house full of Timmys and Barbaras, wondering why I felt a vague sense of disgust whenever I heard one of them say the other’s name.  I’m not just picking on Tonya – it’s my career, too.  I don’t know what it’s like to be pushed to teach, or go to law school to represent those without a voice, blah, blah, blah.  I’m pretty good at office stuff, so I manage a building and make sure all the doors are open and shut at the right times and the AC/heat are turned on in the right seasons.  I think I’m waiting for an epiphany where my career, wife and life path are all revealed to me at once, but I’m not sure that’s ever going to happen.  These terrorists, did they just wake up one day and know?  Or was it layer upon layer, words building on images on beliefs until it created a rolling ball of fire and anger moving forward with utter conviction?  Maybe I need to hire someone to indoctrinate me in my everyday life – with what, though, I couldn’t tell ya.

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This entry was posted in A Dying Dream, Careers, Character, Family, Memories, Monologue, Relationships, Religion. Bookmark the permalink.

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