First, my apologies, my dear reader. I realized only recently how I have betrayed you.
One morning, the morning before I left on my sabbatical, I stumbled upon the shop next to my house. In all my years, never have I experienced bacon like this bacon. What a wondrous food, and how proud it makes me to write in this blog. Thick, not fatty (weird that I just thought about Beyonce?), sweet and peppery, and glazed with something so miraculous, I didn’t even want to ask them for the recipe. Whoever has created this has no doubt spent years mastering bacon, experimenting, improving, creating – and has now given us the meats of his labor. I accomplished much on my sabbatical: I decided the direction for my current company, set the mission for my next, carefully molded what I’d like my next few years to look like personally – and while the people I was with played a large role – it all started with the bacon.
Before that, I was relationship-hurting a bit. A man told me I seemed closed, and I suppose I just struggle with how to remain loving and understanding and protect myself.
But as I think about it, I don’t know that I need to protect myself. Sometimes I talk as if I am made of flesh and they carry knives, but I’d like to think I’m made of titanium and they carry balloons in scary shapes. When I realize that they cannot say or do anything to even mark that titanium, I’ll realize I don’t need protection. Then I could allow everyone and anyone to approach me with their funny shaped balloons, and let them poke and prod to their hearts’ content. Or I could just get out of my head and go get some bacon.
wrapmeinbacon 