That is all.
I only saw the movie, The Matrix, once. I was most fascinated by Cypher, the man who decided it was actually better in the matrix than in the real world and brokered a deal to go back on his terms. I could totally see that.
I hadn't thought about it for years until Friday. I was chaperoning the 8th grade trip to Magic Mountain again. As always, I had stationed myself in the relatively quiet spot behind the Internet Café and beside the fountain in front of the waterfall for the day. I spent my meal ticket on a Cobb Salad and a glass of ice water, fighting all day the 4" x 4" square brownie that sent a subliminal song of comfort through the refrigerated case, around the corner and out the door to me. Once upon a time I had that spot to myself, and this time I was armed with writing paper, the iPod, and a good book in hopes of some solitary time to indulge my simpler desires. It was not to be, as I'd made the mistake several years ago of telling my friends on the faculty about this sacred spot.
Company. All day.
It's all right, really. I am so lucky in my colleagues. My friends.
One of them has two children, and the younger will be a senior next year. He is on the autism spectrum and commented to his mom that he had had a wonderful junior year and was scared about senior year and beyond.
She shared that he had told her that he "...just wanted to live in his fantasy world again."
I so get that, kid.
My fantasy world is much lovelier than the reality that bites. And today I am feeling particularly unarmed.
I need. I want.
So much out of reach, at least for now.
I may make it through unscathed, but there is a strong possibility that I will seek that comfort after all.