Ache

Do you ever feel that exigent need to do something completely life-threatening and dangerous? You get the thought in your head that you aren't alive, and you have to do something - anything - to wake up. You're just there, a small, insignificant creature waiting to break out of that shell.
I feel the craving for adrenaline almost daily. What could I do?
What if I hit 120 on the freeway, swing the steering wheel and yank up the emergency brake? What would happen then? Would I just stop? (Doubtful, considering the speed.) Would the car roll like a bouncy ball? Would I hit other cars? Would I even survive? If I knew the answer to that question, I would've already experimented.
Give me anything. Skydiving or bungee jumping. Swimming in a cage surrounded by sharks. Cliff diving. Revving the engine to my 600 bullet bike. Flying a jet. Being thrown from a two-ton raging bull. Punching out the irritating girl in my class. Running until my legs give out. Hang gliding or parachuting. Anything.
I often feel that aching need for the rush, the thrill of feeling "alive." Is it healthy to feed such a hunger? Or is it better to sit in silence as the ache intensifies? How far can I go? How much can my brain and body take? How far can I run? How fast can I do? How thin can I get? How long can I go without sleep? I find myself stretching my limits. Usually the fear overcomes the rush, forcing me to abandon before hitting my mark.
What can satisfy?

Reocurrence

In my dream I'm always searching. For what, I'm never exactly sure. It's always the same thing, though. Always important. Crucial, somehow.
I begin in a hallway. Thick darkness fills the space behind me, obstructing my view. I don't know what's back there. Ahead spans a huge labyrinth of halls. There are no lights or lamps. Flat industrial carpet covers the hard floor. Just like church carpet, I notice. Tall doors stand every few yards. All locked. Pale green light glows around the edges of each door, eerily illuminating the halls. A tall silhouette is cast around each door. Sometimes I think I can hear voices behind the doors, softly chattering. More often than not, it's dead silent. I'm frightened. Growing dread settles into my chest.
Stop, Bonnie. Stop.
I can't stop. I can't go back. I won't even try; I know it's useless. I have to go forward. An unknown force drives me, not giving me a choice.
I walk through the maze, not knowing where I'm going or what I'm looking for. Every so often I'll reach a dead end. Or I'll have to choose: right or left. I never know which way to go. But I keep going. I have to. Long shadows are cast into the dimness, only adding to my heightened hysteria. What's causing the shadows? I'm the only thing in this deserted place. I shouldn't be here.
It takes me hours to thread my way through the network of corridors. Somehow I'm never confused as to where I'm going. My subconscious pulls me forward. I can't stop now. I worry, though. My breathing quickens and I feel panic creeping up on me.
I finally reach a door at the end of a long hallway. The center of the maze. Yes, this is where I'm going. This is what I'm looking for. This is where I'll find it. This door, unlike the others, will not be locked. Am I relieved to know my journey is nearing its end? Or am I more frightened before?
Hesitantly, I reach for the knob. Do I really want to do this? My body won't stop. The knob clicks as I turn the handle and push through the door. Bright green light blinds me; I can't see. Cold fear seizes me and I instantly regret taking that first step down that first hall.
Then I wake up. Shaking, sweating, shivering.
The memory of this dream haunts me. Every time the nightmare wakes me I stay up for hours trying to decipher it. Is there any meaning to the symbolism? What am I searching for? Will I ever find it? Do I want to find it? Even now, when I know I'm dreaming, I'm still not sure if I want to keep going down that hallway.
Stop, Bonnie. Stop.
Will it ever end?

The M&M Craze

Last week, a friend from work gave me some M&Ms. I had all but forgotten the little candy-covered drops of heaven existed until then.
It started a frenzy. I was craving M&Ms like a mad woman (speaking of, I did happen to see one of those this morning). I needed M&Ms, and I needed them bad.
I figured I'd be fine. I wanted to be fine. I would continue my life pretending I'd never heard of or tasted the little delights.
Obviously, it didn't work. I made an emergency trip to the Neighborhood Market on the corner.
I'm now sitting at my desk gleefully hugging my huge, beautiful bag of M&Ms. Kind of like Golem from LOTR.
Yeah, they're that good.
I also have to eat them one by one, color by color. I'm OCD in the fact that there must be one of each color in my hand before I'll eat them all at once.

All Kids Grow Up

When I was a baby I went through the transition from Mommy's milk to solid foods.
And I starting walking instead of crawling.
When I was a toddler I graduated from diapers to pull-ups to "big girl panties."
Then I learned to read.
When I was six I started Kindergarten.
When I was eight I was baptized.
At twelve I started Young Women's.
And I started babysitting.
When I was fourteen I went to my first "SND."
(Saturday Night Dances. They used to be quite the rage.)
When I was sixteen I spent a semester in Mexico.
(Do I need to mention that I came home early?)
When I was seventeen I (finally) got a driver's license and my first car.
And my first boyfriend.
And my first job.
When I was eighteen I quit high school.
When I was nineteen I had my heart broken.
Now I'm twenty.
I'm starting school.
And moving into an apartment.
With roommates.
And I'm absolutely terrified.
I have no idea what to expect.
And I've never had to buy my own toilet paper before.
Who will make dinner? Who will "help" me with my homework? Who will stay up with me till all hours of the night watching Pride & Prejudice and eating Cheerios? Who will take my laundry out of the washer and set it aside instead of shrinking it in the dryer? Who will be there to laugh at me when I'm scared (of the werewolves, duh) only to start freaking out a little later? Who will take me on late-night emergency trips to Wal Mart (or Smith's, depending on how urgent the emergency)?
I miss my mom.

The Best Advice

Lately at work I have been all over the place. I "get" to travel to each and every floor at least 3 times a day. It has been a little stressful and busy, but everyone is always so nice and I've loved getting to talk with people more. There is one lady in particular who, every time I see her, says, "Have fun!" Every time. We're talking like five times a day.
Lately I've been pondering on that short phrase. "Have fun." Why in the world would this lady tell me to have fun...all the time?
The answer is obvious.
"Life is to be enjoyed, not just endured."
"Men are that they might have joy."
Not just sometimes. Not every once in a while. Always.
We are supposed to be constantly enjoying ourselves and happy. Why waste time being anything less than perfectly content?