Is there anything in life better than a unicorn? Beautiful, peaceful, mysterious, and rare. Oh, I know: how about a unicorn with its best friend, the mermaid? No, no: how about the unicorn and the mermaid underneath a tree that looks like it grows leaves but once you get up close you discover the tree actually produces money?
THAT would be the penultimate of awesome, the pinnacle of impressive, the apex of magnificent.
But you know what?
They’re all imaginary. Not one of them is real. In fact, not one of them is even kind of real. Fake, fake, fake. Each and every one of them.
* * * * * * *
After my husband read yesterday’s post, he was guarded in his offering of a compliment about my willingness to be so brutally real and disclosing with whomever might choose to read about my past bad habits and patterns of poor behavior.
(Rob is an introvert who would just as soon live in near constant isolation were it not for: one, the reality that we are not “off the grid;” and two, his children and his wife don’t share his intrinsic need for such profound separateness.)
He thought my disclosure was “bold.” He might have even used the word “brave.”
I didn’t write about my three dangerous — and now, former — habits to be either bold or brave. The idea came to mind and the words came out.
What I have found interesting since posting “Force(d) (out) of Habit” is the 30% decrease in traffic to the blog. Maybe it was due to the photo of Kurt Cobain smoking? Maybe it was because it’s Wednesday? Maybe it’s something else?
It’s probably something else.
Though I will be interested to see if there’s an up-tick in traffic to read this post.
If there is, I’ll give full credit to the unicorn.