All balled up...

Man, sometimes I am so uptight and anxious I freak my ownself right out... Right now, for instance, my beautiful, darling, charming, gorgeous, hilarious husband is trying, with all of his might, to get me to pay attention to him. But no, I am utterly compelled to finish this blog entry because, after all, it is what I set out to do. It doesn't seem to matter to me what I actually want, it is always about what I feel that I should do... I guess it could be that I am such a total Yankee. A swamp Yankee. A product of generations of Puritans, Shakers, and Quakers. Daughter of practical New England. Land of Lacoste and "good taste". But then sometimes, I just totally let loose and feel like I must have been adopted from the last, secret, tribe of untamed Amazon Warrioresses. Maniac style. I have quieted down some lately in the past few years since having Linc, but back in the day I could really have some outstanding adventures. I never even knew what I was going to do next. I guess that lately I have been more plagued by the "what-should-I-do's" but I blame that totally on parenthood. Which is cool with me, to be expected. I guess that my whole deal is actually that I am an extremest. No wishy washy moderation for me. I don't seem able to line that one up at all... I actually just wish that life could be one long outrageous summer vacation that never ended. Where anything was always possible. Living in a land with no limitations... But after all, that isn't really reality... Or is it? We should be practical... Or shouldn't we? Back and forth... Back and forth... You see now, how it happens, this? Get ready, I think this next one is going to be a real duzy...