Day 143: Neuroses A Go-Go

I am neurotic. I think we can all agree on that. I've already settled on my personal product tagline, which is: Making It Harder Since 1976.

Get your mind out of the gutter.

Anyhoo, I booked my ticket to Paris this morning. It's easy to book a ticket. Frighteningly easy, actually. Just plug in a few details on an online form and POOF...you are outta here. Makes you wonder why you stay in any one place.

But, getting to the point where you pull the trigger with your VISA number? That's a different story.

The universe (care of my friend Dana) served up a Parisian studio. The universe (care of my parents and points) served up a plane ticket. I had a month in Paris delivered on a silver platter. I was spectacularly, jaw-droppingly grateful. And then I began to screw things up.

Hey, I said to Boyfriend, maybe you should come.

(Cue doom music.)

Hey, I said to myself, maybe I should stay longer.

(Cue thunder.)

Hey, I said to anyone who would listen, maybe I should now suddenly question everything in my life.

(Cue lightning and the Hand of God.)

Paris makes me nutty. Or maybe it's more like Paris is a catalyst for all my weird beliefs to rally and throw a freak-out party just to remind me they're there.

Here's one fun belief: the people who so-called love me are really out to get me. They don't actually want me to go to Paris or live my dreams – they just want me to quit rocking the boat.

So I go ahead and get my claws out. I get preemptively defensive because, hell yes, this is the hill I'll die on. Meanwhile, the (slightly baffled) people who love me continue to say what they've always said: We're thrilled for you. Do what's best for you. We'll work around whatever comes up.

Hello, Paranoia.

I've spent the last week, not celebrating a month in Paris, but writhing under the pressure of people's imagined expectations. And now, after spinning in circles for several days, I'm right back where I started: with the precious, precious gift of a month to write in Paris.

My ticket is booked. I'm on my way. My neuroses are, thanks to President Obama's inauguration speech, sitting quietly in the corner. Because, seriously, what's important here? Be grateful for what you have. Live the moments of your life. Love well, live your dreams. And, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, get out of your own way.