i have had a dawning realisation recently that life is a process. there is no point of resting on one's laurels (uncomfortable, no? spiky little things, them!) unless it be a little point here and there. all the rest is getting from point birth to point death, and various points in between (new job, nervous breakdown, lunch with mabel, getting drunk, moving provinces, pedicure, scrubbing the tub...you get the picture), and really, it's all about the journey.
hmmm...would make a nice bumper sticker or coffee mug: "it's all about the journey."
what do you mean it's been done? bastards!
so yes, 37 years old, finally hauled her ass off the damn couch of existence and suddenly all these truths are raining down on me. nice.