On my way to work I saw some balloons floating above the tight grip of a young girl. She was staring at them transfixed by their fluttering beatuy
"Mommy?" She asked to the woman beside her "When can I pop them?"
Yes ballons are pretty, but some people just want to pop them. The promise of little explosion, knowing they are so delicate - that is part of what makes them so appealing!
Of course, once they are popped the drama is over.
All day yesterday I was worried about a test I had to take in the evening. My mind stroked and pulled the string of my worry, freting a little, feeling adrenelinea nd a tinge of fear. The prospect of failure made the who day a little more edgy - and in a way, more interesting.
That test, or many just the anxiety it produced- was my thought ballon.
I tugged and played with it.I pondered my feelings on failure, saw myself the next day- either happy or disapointed. The lip biting aside, the anxious excitement want managable, if distracting. It wasn't substantial or heavy, and I knew it wouldn't last.
Then, as I finally took the test, I felt that balloon pop.
And it felt good.
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