This is my twentieth blog. A major feat for me, as I have in the past created blogs that did not make it this far.
I have even been extra productive at work, trying to get things done ahead of time, in order to focus on others things I am trying to finish.
Who is this Emma? Concerned with deadlines, and security? I don't know. I would actually like for her to back into her hiding place, and let the former me come up with ways to defer action.
Growing up is a strange thing, because it always seems that yesterday you were drawing your growing empire in chalk in your driveway. Instead of losing your temper in the car, because for what seems like the twentieth time today someone in traffic has either cut you off or decided they should follow so closely that you can literally see them taking breaths.
Becoming older is also a strange thing, because you seem to take a longer pause in reaction to things.
I am currently listening to the NPR program "This American Life," which is covering individuals reactions to the death of Osama Bin Lauden. It seems to me, that I have been stuck in a dryer with this story, tumbling over it again and again. The noise of it humming and overwhelming my thoughts. I finally think I've come to stop and figured out exactly the right reaction is and then someone else's opinion gets thrown in and I'm spinning again.
I'm still not sure what's right. Should I be proud of my country and my president? Or should I feel upset that we solve our problems with violence? Maybe it's right to stop evil and stand up against evil people. Maybe it isn't for us to decide who or what is evil.
So you see my confusion. Most of all in everything I have seen on facebook, or heard on the news, or read in the press, I feel a sense of that "longer pause" in myself. I did not make any rash jumps to an emotional reaction. I just felt stunned, and let that sit.
The cycle continues. Therefore, I suppose this whole "adult life" I hear so much about isn't the future. I am the adult, but it isn't a linear process. I am just that lost sock, toppling over the top and circling the bottom. I'm going to make to end of this cycle, and I may even be looking forward to the next.
Hence my diatribe...