Bologna. I never thought I even liked bologna, but here I am eating a bologna sandwich. Lots of things have changed, but I feel like bologna is a good place to start.
Ever since 2012, when I graduated High School and made the transition into "adulthood", I feel like not only my life has changed, but also me as a person. I've had a few heartbreaks (one of them I still regret), got a degree, had a few odd jobs, landed the dream job, moved out, crashed my car, got a new one (burnt that one out too) and grew a fervent love for beer and bologna.
As I sit here currently eating I can't help but reminisce my earlier years and start to think that I had made a few questionable decisions. Then I think if I had to choose one thing about my past that I would have changed I wouldn't. Why? I wouldn't be here where I am today and I wouldn't have found true peace over a slice of processed meat. I might be across the sea missing my family, or still at home hating my family. I could have stayed at my old job scrubbing dishes for less than minimum wage hating my job, or gone back to my seasonal job at the Institute (shout out to Ellen for being one of the best bosses out there.) I wouldn't be working as Direct Support for a non-profit organization just making ends meet eating this double-crust sandwich. I'm happy.
I haven't been this truly happy in a long while. One of the last times I was truly content with myself I was at the park during the summer with my feet in the creek. The wind was making the trees creak ever so slightly and I was just standing there staring as the water rush between my toes. I had not a care in the world. I had no where to be and no one to impress... no homework, no job pressures, no bills. I knew I had food waiting for me at home and a family that would greet me at the door. Now I return home after a ten hour shift at eight in the morning to no one. I'm always tired and I somehow never have food in my apartment except for bologna. Somehow today felt profound and I felt strangely nostalgic over a sandwich.
When did I grow up? Was it college? High School? Was it after my first job or after I moved out? Am I just thinking too much and this happens to everyone at one point in their lives? Do those people eat bologna, too?
So many questions, but now my sandwich is gone and the feeling is fading.
Maybe it was just the beer.
