Blue Meth

The news I got on Tuesday morning is totally a major pull out, and although it was something I definitely did not want to happen, it kind of seemed imminent. The universe knows how much I wanted to salvage it, but I felt it was not a good time to try.

On the bright side, it was almost-a-year of opportunity, and seeing how it’s enabled me to improve even just a little on one life aspect I need to absolutely work on gives me hope. As much as I want to try to veer away from cliches, this is the part where I say — “when one door closes, another one opens.”

The last two days I found myself modifying spreadsheets as if it would do some miracle. Today, old plans were revisited as if it’s that easy to pick a choice and make it happen right away.

I feel like I’m running out of time. Yet I certainly know I’m not.

I have long reconciled this thought in my head — that time is a concept and that I’m the captain of my ship, the leader of my race. But this moment is one of the rare occasions where I feel disgustingly vulnerable, as if I’m twenty-one again, grappling for my next step. Seems like it’s panic that I’m feeling, but that’s not me. Or, at least that’s how I want myself to be.

I still can’t get Walt and Jesse off my mind, and as disturbing as it may sound, but — I hope I find my blue meth too.