Yesterday my best guy pal at work rang me up before my lunch hour to break the news that he was ditching this 9-to-5 in favor of greener pastures and his resignation was handed in effective immediately. Like a novice messing up the flow on the turntables, I wasn't prepared for the finality of that tidbit. Yeah, I knew he was unhappy, but hell aren't we all? It became almost redundant to complain since we hadn't really done much outside of paying lip service in constant bitchfests on company hierarchy. I can't hate on him making power moves...it's a good look for him professionally. Although I can't quite say it with feeling just yet, I'm happy for him and he has my support in whatever choices he makes.

By the time it came to do the obligatory — and dreaded goodbye this afternoon at my cube, we both were trying to keep it together and myself in particular didn't wanna be such a girl about it. Last thing I needed was to start blubbering right there in the office like a guest who caught the bad end of a Dr. Phil tongue lashing. The weird part was in the middle of all this sentimentality, there was something I tried to keep on the low reflected not only in my eyes, but in his too that freaked the hell outta me after an I'm gonna miss clownin' with your silly ass hug turned into an Um, ain't he squeezing me a bit too long now? embrace. I know what you're thinking, don't worry...I'm getting to that part in a sec.

Okay, I admit...he's hella cute and we share many of the same interests and we get along like peanut butter and chocolate in a Reese's cup. Why didn't we try dating? Well, there were three major obstacles: 1) we worked together in the same dept. 2) I was involved with (and um....still kinda) with a friend of his that also used to work here. [That's a long ass story I'll reserve for the next peek into the barren desert that is my love life].

Besides, not hooking up automatically extended the warranty on our friendship for another 3 years... but right there in that moment of "keep in touch" and "I'll miss you", we were both *here* on the brain wave communication. I should've fucked you when I had the chance. Goddammit.

Now let's see, where the heck was I? Just replaying that in my head is enough to get a broad sidetracked like a mutha. Changes in other people's lives always seem to spur a session of introspection and this time was no different. His exit got to me reflecting on exactly where I am and where I'm headed right now in my own life. I can remember seeing expectations through rose-colored glasses and writing down my life's script definitively as if it would function like your average to-do list and I could cross off my goals one by one in succession like the future was one trip to Target.

• Go to high school.
• Be the next Debi Thomas, but actually win an Olympic gold this time.
• Get accepted into an A-list college.
• Progress to grad school.
• Work through the ranks culminating in my own column.
• Win a Pulitzer Prize.
• Marry Prince Charming.
• Start my own line of cosmetics.
• Research a cure for cancer on the weekends.
• Have 2.5 well-educated, well-mannered kids.
• Drive the kids to ballet class and soccer practice in the MBenz SUV.
• Live happily ever after with the white picket fence.

Surprise! This is the true story of 1 now jaded chick, picked to have her preconceptions reevaluated and expectations tumbled like a rinse cycle only to find out what happens when life forces you to make Spanish Fly with just lemons and sugar water. That's some real ass shit. The REAL WORLD. I mean, whatever happened to what I wanted to do before time TiVo'd the clock forward to worrying about mortgages, due dates, balance amounts and all this other shit you don't consider when the teacher asks, "so what are you going to be when you grow up?" Why did I get so accustomed to just getting a paycheck instead of doing what makes ME happy? When did I let a steady, but unfulfilling position lull me into a false sense of security?

If anyone would've told me I would wind up in an industry I really could give a rat's ass about, forcing myself to get up in the A.M. and feeling like I've turned into the weary specimen that dredge through rush hours daily, put on the wheel not knowing how to get off – well, Miss Cleo had to have a refund somewhere for getting her scam readings mixed up....but alas, here I am at a crossroads not really sure if too much time has passed by to still get out there and take hold of my still vivid aspirations pulling off at the corner of Get Off Your Ass & Make Your Own Destiny or just continue to go through the motions to pay the bills. Why is it so terrifying to let go of everything you know, all your phobias mentally shackling you to a standstill and just go for it? Not to just talk about it, but to be about it?

What you waiting
What you waiting
What you waiting
What you waiting
What you waiting for?
Tick-tock, tick-tock
Tick-tock, tick-tock
Take a chance you stupid ho

I'm still trying. Still fighting. If Holyfield can keep at it being 107 yrs. old, I don't think the shot clock's quite down to zero. How to get from point A to point B, hell who knows? I haven't figured out the map quest route, but I can't stop. Won't stop. Not yet.