What'll it be?

You know your poison. Your favorite, take-the-edge-off, let's-get-this-party-started happy serum.  You know exactly how it's going to taste, you know exactly how many to have to achieve desired results. 

Comfort Zone.

I haven't been there in a while.

What I have in my glass is something new. It wasn't ordered for me or anything like that, I knew what I was getting, and it's good, in fact it's very good.  But it's so ... different. 

I haven't been out in a while. I used to love it; walking into the club (or pub or bar), the air dense with possibilities, charged with excitement...(which is why I think the above analogy bubbled up first!).  I knew what I wanted, I knew, more or less how I needed to get there, but of course like everyone else, there's no way of knowing EXACTLY how it was all going to play out.

So now here I am, in my home, 7 years of marriage in my pocket, 2 squishable kiddies to call my own...exactly what I knew I wanted.  Now that I think back, I realize something though.  I loosely laid out a plan of action; all the benchmarks I figured your average 30-something woman should have achieved by the time she got to where I find myself now.  But I don't ever remember factoring in what I might need to keep me grounded in Me.  All the things I did in my Comfort Zone.  I got so wrapped up in being the homeowner/maker, the wife, the mom that I kinda put Me on the shelf.  And so many orders have come up since MY last one, that all the other bottles up there have been shuffled around until Mine got pushed right to the back. 

Well...that just won't do anymore.  The place IS pretty crowded, there is a lot happening, a lot of ground to be covered between me and the bartender.  But I'll enjoy the music, plug in to the pulse in the atmosphere, let the party happen around me, and with a little patience I know I will soon find myself with my elbow up on the bar again, and I will know exactly what I'll order when asked,
"What'll it be?"