Some paths we take run parallel to other paths. We don’t have to sell a house to change jobs, necessarily. We don’t have to give up a dog to have a child. We don’t have to throw away one book just because we’re reading another. Other paths we take do narrow our choices. (Some broaden them.) Some paths require burning bridges behind us. Others don’t. (Lots of times the best paths do, though… a resolute commitment to go ahead and not look back.)
From the warnings in the back of the Life textbook: If one sleeps over at one’s old house to take care of one’s own kids while their dad is on a business trip, and if one is pleased with how calmly and smoothly everything is going and has gone and seems to be likely to go in the future, one should not be surprised when one’s silly dog decides to have -- oh, what should we call it? diarrhea? -- in the master bedroom on the white carpet. One should be careful not to say anything too terribly vile to the dog while scrubbing away at germy spattery spots with old white gym towels. Note: one should be especially alert to the smirking meanness of the universe. The universe has been known to send along vicious wasps to sting one on the ring finger of the left hand, causing one to nearly faint from anxiety.
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