French Fries & Lack of Conviction (T-Minus 227 Days)

After returning from a week-long road trip to see friends and family last night, I set out for the grocery store in a quest to get vegetables, lean meat and all the fixings for a healthy dinner. After six hours in the car for the day and 1,200 total miles of driving, it seemed like the way to go. My plan, however, was quickly thwarted when I discovered the neighborhood store had closed for renovations while I was gone and, before I could think twice about it, I pulled a U and went through the McDonald’s drive-thru instead.

I could have gotten any number of their semi-healthy options, but I instead quickly ordered the Angus burger and fries … although I did get an extra side salad off the dollar menu and a Diet Coke which has to count for something. Right?!

Anyway, as I took it all home and geared up for a night catching up on bad DVR-ed television, I looked down at the mountain of food and laughed. I literally LOL-ed at the startling illustration of my complete lack of conviction. Talk about an epic fail on my part.

There are two more of the same grocery chain within a couple miles of my house and another store even closer, but in a moment of weakness, the glimmer of French fries was enough to completely throw me off track. And I quickly realized this penchant for switcheroos is far from limited to my food choices.

In addition to clearly not having iron-clad convictions for things like working out … or blogging … I have spent the last few weeks toiling back and forth with the prospect of a new job. Not just some light-hearted pondering, but from the single-minded approach of zero interest to the sudden 180 of looking for an apartment and outlining salary requirements and now, equally suddenly, to the emphatic belief it would be the wrong move for me.

I spent the last portion of my vacation on a friend’s 120-acre farm in the rolling hills of Western Maryland and this became the site for my latest professional reversal. For as much as I love nature, I am not a farm girl, but something struck me as we fed the horses at night and even more so in the morning, when I awoke to the most beautiful sunrise I can remember.

And it inspired me. If I didn’t have to drive so far back to return to reality, I could have stayed there all day and been moved to write for hours by that view. I wanted to create in the kitchen, sleep under the stars and get lost in what was around me. These things clearly are not enough to build a life off of, but I think I felt a flicker of passion and, dare I say, groove.

I’m not saying I want to pack up my things and go milk cows for the rest of my life, but I do know I want to be somewhere that makes me feel inspired … which has not been here and I am fairly certain is not the city where this new professional opportunity resides.

But hey, I’ll probably change my mind tomorrow once I remember all the convincing arguments I had for the other side. Or maybe not. There is still a big part of the story I’m not telling you … yet.