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Saturday, December 5, 2009

"Things Will Work Out."

Whenever someone has a rough day, or is waiting for good or bad news or for any other reason someone might suffer anxiety we are conditioned to say "Things will work out." So I'm holding my breath trying to wait until Monday, or such and such are back in their office after a holiday break and a lot of other reasons my life is basically on hold and everyone says to me, "It'll all work out." What if it doesn't? What if things are out of our control and there is nothing we can do about it? What do you say when all that is left is to admit defeat? Sometimes it doesn't just conveniently work out ... oh wait, for those with good attitudes who work hard everything will unfold like the Full House Christmas special. Bust out the hot cocoa, friends and relax knowing it will work out. For those of us who apparently have sinned in a former life I ask you when do you admit defeat? At what point do people stop telling you it will work out and to get over it and move on? How long should one hold their breath in hopes that there's an off chance that things might actually go well for you for once? I'm running out of oxygen. I don't know how much more longer I can hold my breath. I'm drowning and what if things simply don't work out? Then what?

2 comments:

  1. Libby, I feel your pain, I've been there before. I just always had to tell myself that everything happens for a reason. It might not "work out" the way you expect it to or want it to at that time but, things do work themselves out eventually and you will find that they can be even better than you were hoping. So, I say, stop holding your breath and just live in the moment. I know, easier said than done But, eventually "Things will work out" (even if its not the way you thought they would.)

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  2. I prefer not to say, "It will work out", but instead to say, "Fuck it." Now I'm not saying that I don't try. I work my ass off to get what I want, but I've learned that when things get all discombobulated (which happens a lot in my current state) to simply say, "Fuck it." I don't quit. I keep working my ass off, but I'm not going to hold my breathe and keep wishing for the "shit sandwich" to start tasting more like a rueben.

    Semper!

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