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Chasing The American Dream

February 05, 2007


Three years ago, I felt like Dorothy Gale watching the sand sift quickly down the Wicked Witch’s hourglass. Time was moving fast. Life was moving fast. At 42, I felt like I needed to rush. Break the speed limit. Quickly find someone to spend the rest of my life with before I got too old. And so, as you know, I dated. And dated. And dated. And as you also know, not much has come out of all that. Lots of posts about disappointments and frustrations.

But all that ceased at the end of last October when I went into self-imposed splendid isolation. Yep, still going. Date-free for three months now. And life has slowed down for me. All those trials and tribulations have made me realize I don’t need to be in a hurry. I don’t need to break the speed limit. I may have turned 45 today, but I don’t feel that old. I don’t even think I look that old. Yet. Check back with me in five years. I may have a change of heart.



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