I want you to feel the depth of the sigh I’m implying here with these three periods. My cat is chowing down a piece of my carpet with vicious determination like some damn pimp told her to do it. She’s gagging and she’s struggling but she’s not letting up – she’s going to get this carpet down if it’s the last thing she’ll do. Goddamn, I look at that determination and think to myself, “When is the last time I ever ate carpet? It must be fucking delicious.” I don’t know if I’ve ever wanted anything as bad as this cat wants to swallow this piece of my carpet. This wrung out, grey string of fabric about four inches long still halfway glued to my floor. As I observe her tiny body convulsing in effort, I think back on all the things I’ve wanted in my life and why the fuck I didn’t gorge my goals down deep into the depths of my gut until success came out the other end.
The first goal that comes to mind has been my intention to travel as broadly and wildly as possible. I’m not to blame for this goal – every video game and cartoon from my youth involved a kid setting out on a journey and doing awesome shit like catching wild animals and then pitting them against each other in vicious battle. You know what these cartoons do? They do the same shit Barbie does to little girls: set unrealistic expectations of what life can look like. Just like veterinarian Barbie never has to put a dog down and then deliver the news to a teary eyed child who grew up with that poor pup, none of my childhood heroes ever created a financial balance sheet or discussed sanitation concerns. No, when Goku needed to go to Namek and save the world, he just fucking did it. No saving up money. No figuring out schedules with his wife and child. No nothing, just action.
That’s what I want my life to be. Action. Instead, here I am, typing away for a blog while I watch my cat regurgitate carpet bits.