I ran across this quote recently. Something in it speaks to me – oh, maybe it’s all the ways it is me. Although, I loved my waiting tables days.
It reads like a poem to me – even though it’s not. But here’s how it reads to me.
“The useless days will add up to something. The shitty waitressing jobs. The hours writing in your journal. The long meandering walks. The hours reading poetry and story collections and novels and dead people’s diaries and wondering about sex and God and whether you should shave under your arms or not. These things are your becoming.” ~~ Cheryl Strayed, Tiny Beautiful Things: Advice on Love and Life from Dear Sugar