Never in a hundred, never in a thousand, never in a million years, would I read the story of my life, start to finish. For that matter, I don’t think I’d try to write it, start to now.
In a good book, or at least a cheap paperback, the heroine (me) would rise above her misfortune and become an international success.
That ain’t going to happen. I may reach a point of settled contentment, I may reach a point of great joy, or I may (goodness) fall in love. But extraordinary success is unlikely, and frankly, I couldn’t handle it anyway. I’d fall right back down again.
But I can’t lose hope. I’ve had a lot of ups and downs, and in the last few years, through what you might call a perfect storm of bizarre circumstances, I’ve had a particularly challenging time.
But I’ve learned, and I’ve grown, and I’ve moved forward. I’m wiser today than I was yesterday. If the last chapter of the story of my life reveals a wise old lady, preferably a wealthy & wise old lady, then my life will have been well-lived.
Okay, then I’ll read the book.
Image Credit: © Angela Waye — BigStock
My World With Words 
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