Three months ago, everything seemed just fine: Wake up at the same time, jog the same route, stop by the same coffee shop, go to the same office, lunch with the same colleagues, hear the same jokes…
It was just too fine, like Phil lives the same “Groundhog Day” again, again, and again—tomorrow never comes.
That is numbing, that is suffocating, and that is terrifying. Others may be just fine with it. But that is killing me, bit by bit. I am just that boiling frog: unless jump out, he is cooked, slowly.
In hindsight, that frog cannot be happier about the jump. After all,
“Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all.”
[Jasper, Canada, Oct., 2015]