The Road That Hasn’t Been Traveled Any More Or Any Less Than The Other One.

Sometimes I like to close my eyes and daydream that I am on a sandy beach with a warm breeze a’blowin.  Unfortunately that is when I wake up and find my room filled with sand and I have cuddled up with the hair dryer again.

It was during one of these instances that I realized it was time to get my life in order.  I packed my hair dryer in the car and we were off, like two giggling school girls.  Look out world, here we come.

My first stop was at the bar.  I realized that it was one o’clock in the morning and nothing else was open.  After that,  I stumbled into the law offices of Bernstein and Bare.

I met with Mr. Bernstein, and promptly asked him for a job.  He just stared at me.  I took this as a sign that I should list my references.

An hour and fifteen minutes later, I began to think that there was something fishy about Mr. Bernstein.  I stepped closer to him to get a better look at his face.

About 45 minutes later, I realized that this could not be Mr. Bernstein.  Why would Mr. Bernstein be lying so flat on the floor with tassels coming out of his head and feet?  I realized that Mr. Bernstein was a rug.

Seeing as I had no intentions of working for someone that lays around all day, I continued on down the street.  I needed to work with someone who wasn’t afraid to get there hands dirty.  Someone who wanted to jump in there and mix it up a bit.  And someone who would possibly do a majority of my work for me.

I came across a fork in the road.  Which way would I go?  What if I choose wrong?  If I went the right way, my future could be everything I hoped it would be.  If I chose the wrong way, I might fall into an open manhole that had sharks waiting for me at the bottom.

All of this thinking was making me hungry.  I decided to sit down and eat the bowl of spaghetti with the fork that the road commision had most generously provided.