Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • If I were to be put in charge of things (which by the way, I should be), this is what it would look like everyday and always. I would wake up at the same time everyday; I would eat the same thing (preferably prepared by someone else like a maid or such); I would sit down with my work and complete it …alphabetically and if anything were to happen that was “Spontaneous?” Well, I would hope that it had been calendared as such a few months previous and placed under S in my day timer. I am what some might call “Structured, “ and what others might call “This side of OCD.” I like to call it “The way things should be.” Needless to say, I do not like where I have found myself this week and this place is called Limbo. Limbo is not a place for me.
    I reflect on my current visit to Limbo as I have arrive at the R part of my day planner. A visit to Limbo is inevitable. My boyfriend just died, which you know…changes things. He had cancer; we fought it; it consumed us; it killed him and now there is nothing…no appointments; no emergencies; no more questions; no more him…no more. Everything is quiet. Time to make decisions.
    My first decision was “Move to Bolivia.” Yes, that’s it. I will move to Bolivia and teach. I loved the idea; I still do; however, every day when I get to the A part of my day planner, I apply for jobs. I currently have eight jobs, so I don’t really need any more jobs, yet jobs are structure, so give me more of that.
    Even after I secured a job in Bolivia. I didn’t stop applying for jobs. Why? Habit, I guess, but when I got to the A in my day planner, there I was online hitting Apply, Apply, Apply. Applying for jobs online is a little like playing the slots in Vegas; it requires a lot of output and rarely gets a return. However, I did hit a little jackpot in a workaholic’s world and I got an interview with a full-time online teaching job. Like teaching in Bolivia, I loved the idea of working entirely online, I still do.
    I like this idea, because if you look in my life planner on page 64 third sentence in the fourth paragraph, you will find an elaboration regarding how I want to grow old, which is COMFORTABLY. I don’t want bills; I don’t want debt and I don’t want to get sick and have an inept healthcare system take everything I worked so hard away or give me any type of run around. I am not making a political statement here. As my astute friend, Pat Strong says, “I am not Left Wing; I am not Right Wing; I have no wings.” However, I have spent enough time in chemotherapy infusion rooms and ERs over the past couple of years to know, getting sick means a lot more than just that. Want an example? A week before my boyfriend died, hospice almost kicked him out, because as one nurse said, “He hadn’t died fast enough.”
    Examples like these have shaped my dream to be comfortable when I become eligible to wear those elastic banded blue polyester pants that I purchased a few years back and have yet to be able to pull off in public. When I reach 90 or so, I fully intend to pull those pants off in public. I earned the right. So, for me to reach this goal, I want to find the perfect place to retire, a place where my American dollar will stretch more than the truth. To find this place, I need to travel the Earth, so a full-time online teaching job would allow me this luxury while Bolivia would allow me to do recognizance. So, of course, I accepted the interview. It went well and I was moved to the finalist’s interview. In this interview, the interviewer said they would let me know if one and half weeks if I received the job.
    That was two weeks, two days and 8.5 hours and 37 seconds ago and I have heard nothing. Bolivia or world explorer in search of the perfect place where I can pull off those pants? I don’t know. Limbo and it is driving me insane.
    When I go insane, I turn to vice. As I have grown older, my vices have grown increasingly boring like drinking coffee instead of green tea; however, I have one vice that I will never give up! NEVER! This vice? When I need to blow off some steam, I turn to my bike and ride like I am thirteen. So, this morning, this is exactly what I did…I put on my Punky Brewster wear that I keep for times like these, put five pieces of gum in my mouth, hopped on my bike and headed downtown. I pedaled; I zoomed; I jumped; I pumped; I stood; I strove.
    When I reached near downtown, I saw another bicyclist in front of me, but he wasn’t as fast as me; no one is when I am channeling Punky. I was going to pass him and show how this was done. I approached on the right hand side and said, “Whoa…whoa” to let him know that I was about to become better than him. Maybe he heard me, maybe he didn’t, but his bike began to swerve right into my line of fire. I stopped saying Whoa and let out a yelp. At the last moment, he retreated out of my path and toward the left. I was glad he had stepped back and expected him to submit instead this is what he said to me,
    “You should have given me a heads up.”
    Punky opened up my mouth and sassed right back,
    “Yeah? Well, you should learn how to ride a bike!”
    So there! Up your butt with a rubber nut!
    I stood up on my pedals and showed how to do this thing called ride a bike.
    I got about three yards and had to press on the brake and guess what?
    I went right over my handlebars and landed on my back.
    Punky left me and I had to laugh.
    “Instant Karma's gonna get you/ Gonna knock you right on the head”
    Where I am off to next? It’s not up to me and that ticks and OCD person like me off.
  • Connected stories:


Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.