In the planning committee meeting for my life, they forget to tell me that i would never be fully comfortable again. In my own neighborhood I long for a calm and sunny coffeeshop where I can stare dreamily out the window and write. But when I drive 20 minutes into town to find such a spot, I am shocked by the prices and the homogeneity of the faces, I am overwhelmed by how much I am supposed to tip and how much small talk I am supposed to make with the barista. At school, at church, at coffee shops, the prickle of not belonging remains, wherever I go.
In the planning committee for my life they forgot to tell me that when you let other people's lives shape you, you can't settle for anything less than good news for all. And since I can't really find that anywhere, I decide to simply drink my coffee, grateful that I am not satisfied.