Do you ever feel like you need something but you don’t know what it is?
Do you ever feel like you need to tell someone something but you can’t put it into words nor figure out who you need to tell or why?
“Excuse me,” said the grocery store clerk. “Are you fine here, or would you like to go down to Express?”
I looked up from typing those first two paragraphs on my phone, which I thought I had time to continue because of the long line to get to a till.
“Oh! Yes, sure, I will go down there. Thanks.”
I smiled at the lady whom I was addressing and walked down to one of the checkstands that had become opened since my mind had been buried in writing on my phone.
As I put my 15 items (or less) onto the belt, the cashier asked if I’d found everything I needed. My immediate thought was this blog post’s words.
What DID I need?
I unfolded my grocery list, glanced to see if any items had not been crossed out or circled (I circle that which I cannot find, that which is too expensive this week and not really urgent, and that which has become an item I’ve decided isn’t necessary today, to add to my next list.)
“Yes. I did,” I said.
But I still don’t know what I am lacking outside the grocery list.
I am going to venture a guess that this feeling is to do with not belonging in this world.
In large, loud, all-caps letters within my brain, each word enunciated and with a dramatic pause before the next one is heard, the sentence shouts out:
(Now, I highlighted the words of this draft while I sit in my truck, hit “select all”, hit “copy”, and, with my words saved to clipboard, I go to the settings to choose my categories and tags. Redo the save to clipboard process, and THEN hit “publish now”.)