an open letter to my life

Dear Life,
This is a rather fragile friendship we maintain, isn't it? Sometimes I feel like you pull me out of bed each morning just to stomp on me--which isn't very nice of you, but I understand you must be a little bit angry with me for all those small, perfect gifts you've given me that I sometimes don't say thank you for...or even notice. That's not very nice of me. And then there's the matter of those opportunities you've laid in my lap that I've accidentally dropped.

I'm really sorry about that, Life. I'm trying to do better.

You saw what I did this week, right? That was pretty awesome--the way I grabbed hold of you with both hands! The way I only slept eight hours total in three nights and wrote and edited my heart out. Then, you saw how--despite being nervous to the point of being sick--I took my graduate school application writing portfolio...and turned it in? I just let it go and trusted that you and your college frat buddies, Luck and Fate, would either make it happen or not. That was big for me, Life. It really was. I know I only have a 1 in a 150 chance of getting in, and those odds are scary, but thanks for reminding me that it could be me. Why not, right?  And also that, no matter what happens, you will go on.

I appreciate that you go on, Life. I do. Celine Dion really should have written that song about you and not her heart. Although it probably would still have been annoying.

I know you're busy and all, so I won't keep you much longer. But can I just say that one day I would really like to meet you face to face. You see, it's been a little difficult for me to picture what you would look like. Thus far, these are the details I have to work with. You are:

* a bowl of cherries (that I shouldn't take seriously).
*a giver of lemons that I should make into lemonade.
* a thrower of curve balls
*a dealer of cards
* a highway that I should want to ride all night long.
*hard
*tough
*short
*scary
*an old magazine
*a tasty breakfast cereal
and
*a board game.

Sometimes, Life, just before I fall asleep, I think I see you. And you look like this....

Please don't look like this, Life. Just, please.

Because I've also heard that you are
*beautiful
*good
and
*full of surprises
and I should like to have a long, passionate love affair with you until, when I am old and gray and laying in my golden bed atop my money-stuffed mattress with Alan Rickman and Sportacus at my side and all my National Book Award medals draped around my neck....you leave me. And my final words will be-- "Life. You sure were something!"

Your enduring friend,
~Jennifer P.