Hard Knocks, Soft Head

There is a lot to be said for recognizing ones limitations.

To not be a pie in the sky dreamer.

To not have your head in the clouds and believe that you are going to be the next American Idol, movie starlet, million dollar basketball player, or president.

But someone has got to do it.

Some part of me admires the fearless and deluded individuals that get on the Idol auditions squealing out Aretha Franklin standards and rap songs.

So maybe, just maybe, I can graduate from school. Maybe just maybe my rickety sick self can pull this through. I have done it before perhaps I can do it again.

I won’t lie. I worry. What if I end out $40K in debt with a license in a career I can’t do because of arthritis. If I feel like this now what will I feel like in ten years when I have to stand all day and work with my hands 24/7.

What do I do then?  Is this a waste of time? A waste of money?

Will this ever end? The constant barrage of things I have to deal with?


Because that’s life. Grow up and come to terms with it little girl.


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