Wednesday, September 23, 2009

How bad do you want it?

“How bad do you want it?” I never asked myself that question until I heard the Don Henley song many years ago, but it’s become a touchstone question in my life - for everything. Maybe my subconscious recognized the question, but I never stopped and actively thought about it. Like many younger folks, I worked hard, played by the rules, and if something didn’t pan out, I merely moved on. I probably lost more than I’ll ever know by calmly accepting so much.

Guess what? I’m older now, and I don’t care if people think I’m a lady, or if I have that certain nebulous quality known as ‘class’. I woke up one morning with the realization I’ve only got about forty years left in this earthly realm. I’ve got to get moving. Screw being a lady. Screw class. Screw living by someone else’s society rules.

How bad do I want it? And what the heck is IT, anyway? That’s a question to make ‘most anyone lean back in their chair and scratch their chin. What is IT? I have a few ideas on what IT is for me. Right now, IT is fitting my ass in a pair of size ten blue jeans.

Excuse me. Ladies don’t use ‘bad’ words. I should say butt, not ass.

And how hard are you willing to work to get IT? That’s what I really grapple with. I drive by the Dairy Queen every day on my way home from work. Maybe it’s time to burn a little extra gas and go home by a different route. No, it’s time to just ignore the huge Blizzard billboard. I’m tough enough to do that. But am I committed enough to ignore the thought of a Strawberry Cheesecake Blizzard until next spring? How bad do I want those jeans?

With age comes wisdom, and patience (which I never had as a younger person). Wisdom says life is lived one day at a time. Failure on any given day isn’t fatal, not in this quest, because I will succeed more days than not.

How bad do I want IT? I guess I’m about to find out.

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