LIFE

Someone recently told me, not for for the first time, that I am an old soul. Indeed.


Do you remember that game, LIFE? My cousins used to play that game, and I remember trying to get them to play anything else with me but that. Even as an eight-year-old, the game depressed me. You had a little car you rode around the board, and random cards you drew brought you joy or pain, births or loss, financial gain or ruin. LIFE seemed too random and too short! Old soul = cautious worrier.


Sometimes I look at my kids and have a mental image of those pink and blue pegs in the little plastic car. I try not to wonder where on the game board we will find ourselves or to ponder what the deck will deal us next. I don't like games of luck, like LIFE or casino games, because I am superstitious, and I know if I have good luck, that means I'm about to get hit by some giant whammie, and if I have bad luck, it'll throw off my energy and concentration, and more bad luck with follow... and basically I feel irrational, out of control, desperate for control, and nothing about it is fun. And not just for myself, either... I find myself worrying about all the other little plastic cars and pegs riding around the board of LIFE, too... it's exhausting being an "old soul."

Many days feel like a game of Frogger. Remember that old video game? I am the frog trying to avoid the tractor trailers on the freeway. I hate that game, too. So violent...

Is it any wonder I have found escapism by way of Facebook's Scramble? Words, just words. Words are about as exciting as this old soul can handle.

I've said it before and I'll say it again: Thank you, Internet. Lately I crawl in my cozy chair in my bedroom first chance I get to hide in my SCRAMBLE devoid of all things symbolic, random, metaphorical, risky. While I lick some recent wounds, I feel like I need the escape from things that remind me of LIFE.