12:57 p.m. - 2012-10-07
Maybe it's because Harvest Fest is this weekend in Vermont, and I'm not going. I have gone almost every year since first grade. Kids and parents in my two-room schoolhouse made caramel apples to sell at Harvest Fest as a fundraiser every year. Now, 25 years later, I still see the kids I used to peel caramels with and hide under the tables with and drink hot cider with, there. Nothing on earth would induce me to live in Vermont again, but there are parts of it I miss. I miss woodstoves, the lack of traffic, the self-reliant people, and the fact that I can expect to see a whole bunch of people I've known my whole life at Harvest Fest.
I think maybe what's really despressing me, though, is my re-realization that nothing is perfect. No matter how much I change my life, there's still the same boring, pathetic, slightly off-kilter "me face" staring back at me from the mirror. No matter how good life is, no matter how much of my shit I have together...
Right now I seem to have my shit together in the relationship department, and that is definitly bothering me. I spend a lot of energy surveilling the surroundings for the freight train that I know will appear out of nowhere and shatter me to smithereens if I get too happy.