The gray is starting to appear, and I’m no where near being the man I’d hoped to be at this juncture. Still crammed into small spaces. Still no savings to speak of. Still motivated by small, simple endeavors.
When I was a kid, my parents seemed like adults and followed a certain orderly process. Cars in the garage. Yard trimmed. Hamburger Helper on the table.
I never wanted any of that, but I often wonder what it would be like. The comfort zone. The safety zone. The not-too-spicy, fall-asleep-after-the-evening-news zone.
Something tells me I’m not destined to find out anytime soon. Maybe I’ll look good in gray?