Happy.

It is Sunday. Tomorrow is Monday. Then it will be Tuesday. Before I know it, it will be Wednesday and then Thursday is just around the corner. Thursday comes and goes then it is Friday, then Saturday, then here I am again, in the same place, in the same chair, on Sunday. Tomorrow is Monday. Then it will be Tuesday of next week. Before I know it will be Wednesday of next month and Thursday of next year is right around the corner. That Thursday will come and go and then it will be Friday, then Saturday, then Sunday. Sunday I will sit at this or possibly a different chair and wonder where the time has gone. Why am I still waiting, waiting for better days to come? When will it be my time? 

It scares me how fast a month has gone, how fast a year has gone. It is March already; last summer is so far gone, the inauguration is so far gone, yesterday is so far gone. I am afraid, afraid that I'm taking everything for granted, afraid that I'm not enjoying the days, the weeks, and the months like I should. 

Nothing is ever good enough for me.

I am selfish. I came here because I want so desperately to get better, to learn, to improve with Caruso. A week has gone by, a month, a year even. Caruso has seemingly remained unchanged. Now I am just desperate; desperate for a change of pace, hoping that one day I will wake up and all our problems will be resolved, all my hard work will have paid off. Caruso and I will be proof of that. The world will be wrong. I will be right. I win. You lose. But that is not the case. It's embarrassing. It hurts. Every day my dream goes unrealized, it hurts. My dream. My perfect dream. Why does nothing ever follow the way it should in my perfect dream?

And so, the days go by but they are not good enough, the weeks go by but they are not good enough, the months go by but even they are not anywhere near good. enough. My hopes of improvement are clouded with selfish ambition. Tomorrow is Monday and then before I know it is Sunday and I am one week further away from my goal, but really, maybe I'm just closer to it.

I had a revelation the other day. Stupid as it may be. Really stupid. People, God willing, live to be in their 60's, 70's, 80's, even 90's. I think I've known that since, what, kindergarten? But really, I'm not even 20. I'm still a young, indulgent, naive crybaby who has a whole life to live. I think I'm an adult, but really I'm still just a child, wishing they were grown up, believing the world is ready to cater to my every need. Me, me, me. God dammit, pay attention to me. I think I know about working hard, but I don't. I think I know about living paycheck to paycheck, but there are thousands, millions in this world who do it better, who have no other options. People who are facing foreclosures, people who have children to feed, who don't even have homes, who are sick but can't afford medical care. I think I know about suffering, but I know more about luxury. I am living my dream, and I have been so ungrateful for it.

So. It is Sunday. Tomorrow is Monday. Tomorrow is a new day; a day full of challenges, a day full of hope. It is a day of life. A day of joy. A day of growth. A blessing in and of itself.