Metaphors.

So my good friend tells me that when you've got the time and energy to come up with extended metaphors for the relationships in your life, it's pretty much a sign that the shit is about to hit the fan.

I don't necessarily agree. 

She tells me I should write it down, anyway, because that chick that did "He's Just Not That Into You" is making bank now. And she's sympathetic to my frantic attempts to start saving for the baby's college education on my $12/hour salary.

So have you ever waded into a cold lake to go swimming?

You put your feet in, it burns, you keep going. The water rises higher and higher on your legs, to your knees, mid-thighs, and then it's kind of hanging out there right below your crotch.

That's a moment of truth, right there. Up till this point, you were testing the waters. But now you're either going to dive in and go swimming, or turn around and give it up.

How cold is the water? Do I really want to do this? Oh shit, this is going to suck.

Alternatively, you think "This isn't so bad. I got this."

I'm hanging out in that cold lake. I've got arctic, icy water lapping at my nether regions.

I thought that the Manfriend was right there with me, in the frigid waters. And we'd plunge or turn around together.

Now I find out that I'm out there all alone and he's still getting his toes wet in the surf.

It's kind of awkward.

So I'm in the process of backing up and heading to shore. Maybe we'll try swimming again when the water's warmed a little.