Life as a pumpkin

Recently, our rather large and very attractive planter was stolen off our front porch, along with several smaller terra cotta pots. We put out two jack-o-lanterns on Halloween night, one of which was smashed that very evening. I ran over it on my bike the next morning on my way to class.

Where am I going with this? My jack-o-lantern was the one that was left, and a couple days ago my roommate and I drove to the store, passing by the front of our house. She commented to me that my pumpkin was looking rather soft and past its prime. I replied that I was hoping someone would come by and deal with it (by which I meant smash it like they had her pumpkin) so that I wouldn't have to. That is when she turned to me and said, "I feel like that's how you live your life."

She was right, and we both knew it. Today I put my pumpkin in the trash. I made it a point to tell her that I was being proactive about my rotting squash. Somehow, though, I don't think that will carry over into my life.

Oh well.

So it goes.