Dosed

A two-part post today, at least unless I think of another topic, and then who knows how many parts might present themselves?

First, what started out as a comment on Loud's post here. But then it got too monstrously huge for a comment. On another note, go me, I learned how to hyperlink. You may laugh at this, but I'm not terribly computer-savvy in spite of my best intentions.
Of course people want to believe in something. They want to believe that someone has control. On a macro scale, God-Zeus-Flying Spaghetti Monster types, on the micro scale, doctors and parents. I sure remember thinking that my parents were totally in control of everything that happened to me, and when I found out that they weren't, and couldn't necessarily save me from anything and everything, I was absolutely petrified that horrible, catastrophic things would happen to me. In situations in which we cannot be in control, we desperately want to believe that someone is, because chaos is scary.

Evidently, motorcycles and leather coats do not bad boys make. And that code that guys talk about is a crock. Or there's a loophole. I don't care. I'm not fussed. I spent the evening stalling, trying to test the water, trying to work up the guts. It's different when it's someone you know you'll have to face the next day. And the day after that. Someone whose opinion still matters to you. All my worries, they were there. I mostly chickened out, but that's okay. Apparently I'm not as slick as I thought I was. Hopefully it doesn't become another unstoppable force and immovable object. This is good for me, healthy, happy. Even if it's bound to be short-lived. So happy that I grinned all the way home just after 7 this morning. It was a walk, definitely, but not of shame. It didn't even really look like one, except that, really, who smiles on their commute to work before 8 am?

Daydreaming again,
Daydream Believer