So, perhaps my plans are about to be wiped out. Perhaps my best intentions are taking me along the road to hell. Perhaps my flexibility is about to be tested, pushed to its limits. It’s bend or break time.
I’ve been in Washington for just over a week now, enjoying the crisp, clear winter weather (and the less crisp, less clear rain which is more typical), and hanging out with Blue Dog.
He had a bath yesterday, against his will. He smells so good now.
Then reality hit hard this afternoon. Plans about massage school got shaken, vigorously, by the discovery of some terrible internet reviews of my chosen school. I began to question my judgement. Some hyperventilation occurred.
Cowboy hugged me and said “It’ll be fine, babe.”
So, I took a deep breath. I sent emails to other schools. I reminded myself that I have more time than I think. I considered the possibility of living with my parents for longer than I planned. I considered the upsides to being in the UK for longer than I had intended – more horseback archery… Hmm. Not so bad.
Then I sent Cowboy to make me a cup of tea. I’m already feeling better.
If I had a pound for every time things didn’t go to plan, I’d be a rich person. Better than being rich, I’m still surviving, so obviously it isn’t the end of the world if plans change. Quite the opposite.
The gentle and yielding is the disciple of life.