My life is an
Open Book,
Baby
No questions
Unanswered
No avenues
Unexplored
No fears
Unfaced
No wishes
Unimplored.
The cover
Unimpressive,
The Foreword
Undeserved,
The typeface
Uninspired,
The story
Unreserved.
Come read me
Unabashed
Learn my secrets
Unrehashed.
Written in response to the Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Your Life, The Book.
The older I get the more I realize I am averse to commitment. It’s not that I have anything against groups or clubs or associations, it’s just that I don’t want to be a part of any of them. Or maybe I subscribe to Groucho Marx’s rule of thumb concerning club membership:
Most of my adult life I wanted to be part of a book club. After three months of club membership I was ready to call it quits. The other members were lovely, the book picks intriguing, and the conversation lively, but on the downside I felt had to ATTEND. And I had to read the books someone else chose within a predetermined time frame. I did enjoy the wine, though.
One of the longest commitments I managed was to the sorority, Beta Sigma Phi. The camaraderie was great and I developed lasting friendships, but had Studly not urged me to continue my membership, I’d have opted out in the first year. I did enjoy the wine, though.
I could list a dozen groups to which I’ve belonged for less than a year. Heck, for less than a month. I’m not sure what this says about me as a person. I like the idea of belonging to a group, just not the reality. I might be open to joining a wine club, though. Anyone want to come with me? No commitment necessary.
Peace, people!
Praying for Eyebrowz 