I'm Too Old To Be This Stupid
Just as a notification, this week's going to be a dumpster file. I'm moving back into the house this weekend, to help Eli 20.10 prepare it for sale next summer. And I'm in heavy final editing mode (six hours today--arghh). Not the best combination.I was chatting with a friend via email over the weekend, and I was trying to explain how I couldn't decide where I was going to move after Eli graduates next summer (because neither one of us really want to have a home base in Grand Rapids).
My conflict, I typed, was between moving for location or moving for a specific person. You know, the perfect person for me, if I found her.
As soon as I typed it, I suddenly realized what an idiot I was.
The perfect person for someone only exists in ninety-minute rom coms where cute meets are mandatory. It turns people into frozen pizzas, where your only objective is to try every frozen pizza on earth, trying to find the perfect flavor.
People, though, aren't pizzas.
A better way of looking at it, if you want to talk pizzas, is that you have to learn how to make a pizza by hand, and find someone who can also make a pizza, and then you can make pizzas together. But relationships don't come pre-assembled. Like most things in life that matter, a relationship is a process, not a state.
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