Frozen Stiff

Hairball Found in the Fridge

Fear stops me from going in any direction. I watch myself lately, stuck to the wall like a thrown hairball. I think about moving from the area because it is too expensive, but then I realize my friends are here and I get scared. I mean, who wouldn’t love to pay off a house at a hundred and thirty K; and it's possible in other parts of the country—if you can stand to walk in snow for a few months.

I want good paying work, but I am almost sixty, and every kind of endeavor I consider just makes me sigh harder. Is it time to retire, and how? Then, I think, I might be bored. Volunteer work isn't quite enough; I like the social and power elements of a job. But, then I have to have another cup of coffee even to go there in my mind!

I've been looking for a second dog to be company for my pooch Toodles. I just can't take her everywhere in the summer, and I think she needs a friend. She’s beginning to think she's human, taking a chair at outdoor restaurants and diving into the Caesar salad as if it's hers.

I have days that my marriage seems impossible: I mean, a craftsman who uses his hands with a communicator who loves to chat? What was I thinking? Ah, that first year of love at first sight is more treacherous than a chocolate éclair. On the other hand, isn't marriage about commitment?

I water the lawn, realizing the drought is here, and I feel completely schizophrenic by now. I mean, almost any subject has two sides. Friendships include truth telling sometimes, yet can we really take it? People are often too sensitive or not used to conflict, so do I turn to chocolate chip cookies, or risk radical honesty? I know, first the chocolate chip cookies, then I’ll call a gal I know to vent and say hello!

Health care is driving me to illness. I have to decide between Pacific Care and Kaiser this week. Argh. One means a long drive and long waits. The other includes local care, sitting for an hour in the waiting room, and fewer practitioners and services to choose from. Oh my.

Then there's family. I’m usually frozen stiff with fear that I might say too much and wondering if it’s okay to tell the truth. Sometimes the judgments or concerns that float around the dinner table fill the air like a frozen pizza. On the other hand, isn't it good to have kin? When to eat the hairball and when to speak up? Do we work hard and die or find an alternative lifestyle that allows the middle and lower classes to relax after sixty? Do we plunk down and stare at the hairball in a state of awesome anxiety, or plug along, one courageous step at a time? I know this hairball rolled all over the table, but fear is a force to be reckoned with!

Question for You:

1. How does fear stop you from living your life?