Not living the dreams?

I feel a bit whiny about my last post.  I’m a little old to be bitching about “oh I’m not the stereotype I wanted to be.”

I have terrific friends and a wonderful husband.  I have a job I love that helps people and doesn’t compromise my values.  I have a cool boss.

I can work on my health.  I can buy and wear hippie clothes.  I can go to festivals if I plan for them.

The teen punk in me is still there and I can use her anger to move me past fear and into action.

I can write.

I am sick of the desert and want to see forest, but that’s what travel is for.  If I get sick enough of it, we can move.  Everyone (nearly) I love is here, but people move all the time.

I need to stop kvetching and start changing.


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