I live on the edge. I don't take a multi-vitamin, I drive through the empty spaces OVER the lines in parking lots, I eat uncooked cookie dough. I am a certifiable BAD ASS.
I was thinking about this as I clung perilously to the outermost edge of my king sized bed and pretended to sleep last night.
My sleeping space had been invaded by one very snuggly, very stubborn Mini Monkey, one equally snuggly, much more malleable Middle Monkey, and one snuggle-deficient, personal-space demanding, GINORMOUS Monster Monkey.
I was also dealing with long limbs of the Monkey Maker that had drifted across the imaginary dividing line of the marital bed
And so, as is the case many nights, I laid there awake. And my mind ran rampant.
I thought about the choices I made in my life. The choices that brought me to my current edge-dwelling position in a bed full of Monkeys.
Truth be told, there were many poor choices made along the way. I really did "live on the edge" and yet against all odds, here I am.
I suppose the Sunscreen Song is right, "Our choices are half chance, so are everybody else's."