Butter is Better

I've decided failure is my greatest fear. Duh.....but not even failure, but the fear of it which motivates me. I like to think that things happen decidedly and without my contribution. Sometimes though, I get these sinking suspicions that I have more control than previous thought led me to believe. For the first time in a very long time I was challenged. It's been some time so I was unsure of these new and dreadful churning's in my gut. I felt lost, and immediately angry. Why is the anger my one and only fallback position? I could be chased by bears and I believe that I would turn and glare at them as the smallest of the three mauled me as his play thing. Of course there'd be three, that's how bears operate. So, I get angry anyhow, all the while questioning why am I angry? Why am I allowing myself to get distracted by emotion and make careless and rudimentary mistakes? I use to be the best at what I did...at least in the locale I did it in. I was the go-to-girl. Everything and anything could be asked of me and I could and would deliver. Now, I am out of my element in a foreign land of talent and skill sets that surpass my existing abilities. Or perhaps I was just a little constipated that day...did feel pretty gassy. I knew in my heart though, that I was working my balls off and coming up short. Don't get me wrong, I wanted this. I longed for a test of my abilities. I just wanted to perform better. It's hard knowing you are the drowning mouse and not the one patiently making cream to butter. I wanna be the butter mouse, dammit. I want to climb out of that cream can, lick myself for hours(cuz butter is delicious) and stroll on ripped and confident. Like a mouse on roids. Will this challenge nourish me in ways never before experienced? Or will I hobble home one day with the realization that I am only as good as I am right now and that is all I will ever be. If it's the latter, whatever will I do? Drown and ruin the farmers butter, I suppose.