The path of least resistance

Once again Cognitive Dissenter has channeled my mood.  Why do we tolerate the intolerable?  I've been asking myself this question since I returned from sunny Las Vegas to frosty conditions. (Oh, and it was cold outside, too.)  I've tolerated the intolerable because it is the path of least resistance.  I don't make waves.  I don't like confrontation.  Not going to church has been the path of least resistance for me because of the effort it took mentally just to go.  It was exhausting and I simply couldn't do it anymore.

Only at work am I able to thumb my nose at authority.  I keep a drink in my cart!  (Only Diet Coke or water, although booze would be preferable.)  It is against the rules and the younger girls are aghast at my audacity.  But I say, fuck those stupid, young managers.  They aren't walking the floor for eight hours and well as answering the damn phone.  Yeah, I'm a rebel.  But that's really as far as my public displays of disaffection go. 

I've been in a deep depression since returning home.  There have been many hours of work to catch up on because no good vacation goes unpunished.  I've slept-walked through it all, just trying to put one foot in front of the other, like slogging through quicksand and trying not to get sucked under.  Then one day I turned around and a man looked me in the eyes and smiled.  He is unfazed by my age and extra pounds and wedding ring.  He thinks I'm beautiful and sexy and is smitten.  And I suddenly notice all the paths opening up in front of me.  I may not take this particular path but I know it's time to get off the path of least resistance.  Because there really are better ones out there.  Paths with dappled sunshine and companionship.  Booze and a coffee maker.  And maybe actual love...