Life is a series of winding uphill roads, and the aim is to find traction. Breathless and triumphant, we scaled the mountain and planted our flag at the peak. But our grip is weak, and these summer roads are tricky and steep. Now comes the descent, recklessly ruthless, and it has brought us to our knees.
I have succumbed to the nine-to-five. It seems my world revolves around my alarm clock, fifteen minutes breaks, the precious biweekly paycheck, and the rigorous rules of Big Brother. (In a call center, every second of your life is analyzed, categorized and scrutinized.) Recent occurrences have proved that money really does make the world go ’round. And ‘working for the weekend’ is more than just a catchy 80s tune.
Please accept my apologies. My time here is seldom, the posts cryptic and whiny. I am certainly not living up to my little motto: “A blog about food, life, and enjoying both to the fullest.”
I hope to remedy this situation with forced enthusiasm and rhubarb. Hey, if you can’t smile sincerely, at least a fake one gets you on the right track. And rhubarb, well, you just cannot be sad with a hefty slice of sticky rhubarb pie at your side.
A trip to my local market this weekend should fix me right up, and I will be back on track in no time, rocky hillside be darned.
“Trouble creates a capacity to handle it.” Oliver Holmes, Jr.