decisions, decisions

why is it that sometimes you get really freaked out when your prayers are answered? maybe that's why the old-er folks always say "careful what you pray for." 

change, albeit both refreshing and challenging, is something that you can never really willingly accept as its happening in any form--spiritual, physical, geographical.

i bet most babies would prefer to remain toothless; that some inmates have separation anxiety when they are finally released; that a lot of kids who can't wait to leave home miss it more than they thought they would and that 90-year-old parents would be much happier if their conflicted 50-year-old kids didn't have to make decisions for them.

i know i would.

i've been through a lot of changes in the last 12 days i've spent on the road. i've struggled to find common ground with those who share my DNA and those who don't. i've witnessed old parents get even older. i was mildly amused when a woman at a thai restaurant in upper manhattan insisted that i was whoopi goldberg even after i repeatedly told her i was not. i was absolutely stunned when my favorite cousin--who owns a porsche convertible--picked me up from the bus station in philly in a mini van with her two kids in tow. and i was often at odds with myself because i couldn't answer any of my own "whys?"

now as i lie here in bed in my flannel jammies waiting for the nyquil to kick in so that i can breathe again, i'm oddly looking forward to the bumps in the road that will undoubtedly trip me up in the coming days, weeks and months. sure, i can't afford to make a wrong turn at this point in time, but even if i do--again--it's oddly reassuring to know that there's some billionaire hedge fund dude in greenwich, conn. who is trying to make sense of it all, too.