I had a complete breakdown today, and threw up in my doctors office. Appealing, isn't it? The doctor who I can't look in the eye. The doctor whose office is full of antique lace things and stiff victorian chairs in the waiting room. Yup. Vomited in her office. Definately wasn't in keeping with the decor.
She asked what I wanted from life.
I just want a simple life. I want a home, a husband and a dog, kids in the yard playing.
She's impressed with my education, she's impressed with my writing, she's impressed by my GPA. But none of those things matter. It's not who I am.
I'm just a simple girl from a little beach town. A girl with sand between her toes and sea salt curls in her hair.
I want to go back to a small beach town. I want to give my children what I had growing up. A carefree summer with new people streaming in. New friends every week, and a new beginning each fall. I want them to know their neighbors. I want them to respect their family. I want them.
But instead, here I am, in a posh neighborhood, filled with Prada shoes and Lexus trucks. Brand new blackberries and wireless everythings. Cars with more gadgets than my parents house. No lawns, they're too much work. No homes, they take up too much room. No time, no time, no time.
No time to relax, no time to get to know people. No time to plant gardens, no time to simplify.
Because really, why should we simplify, if a machine can do it for us?
And that makes me vomit.