Construction Zone

Every morning I wake up to the sounds of bulldozers, the sound of trucks moving. I feel like Arthur Dent on Hitch hiker's guide to the galaxy. I wake up in the morning, and the house is practically shaking. It used to freak me out, but I think I'm getting used to it. I'm very much like Arthur Dent now, wandering the house in a daze, yawning and pouring milk on my cereal.

I've stopped going in the backyard. It's too weird. There are people on the other side of the fence, wearing hard hats and yelling to each other. Yes, in the morning--- like 8am or earlier.

I guess I should explain. I am living in my parents' house again. This is the house that I grew up in. And for as long as I can remember, there has been a field behind my house. Recently, however, the city has decided to build a park in the field. Not that we don't have a park. I mean, we do. It's, well, up the hill. But if they build a park in the field, then they can tear down the current park and the oh-so- old Police Station and Fire Station (they rebuilt them in 2000)--- and build a box store where the Police Station and Fire Station and current park is. They can make more money. There's nothing I can do to stop it.

When I was little I sometimes imagined what I would do if the city ever decided to build on the field. Lay in front of the bulldozer, for sure! I really couldn't imagine my life without the field behind my house.

But change happens. Life moves on. And instead of lying "flat on my back" in front of a bulldozer, I pour milk on my cereal. I can't stop change. I can't stop the construction, even if I wanted to.

I've never been one to like change, really. (There are exceptions, but for the most part, I dislike change.) "Don't throw off my groove!" is not only a phrase Emperor Kuzco says, but also a creed that I live by. I like my groove. I like knowing what to expect, where I am, what I'm doing, what I'm supposed to do...etc.

Lately, however, my life has been like a construction zone. Normally I would try to think of a way to make the construction stop, stop it from throwing off my perfect groove that tells me what to expect, who I am, and where I am going from here. But I'm not. Instead, I am welcoming this huge construction zone, one that will change my life forever. And I'm ready. Hand me a hard hat. Put me to work.