Mar 16, 2010 6:39 AM GMT
Like most babies you have that baby smell, the one you can't put your finger on yet is recognizable to anybody who has held one. Yet, like most babies, you have taken no form. You sit and wait to be molded by those people and events that surround you. You are oatmeal.
You take notice of your surroundings and crave the sweet things in life. You think you know what you want yet cannot decide. You need help from those around you yet feel embarrassed to ask. You are many things starting to come together. You are peanut butter and jelly.
You know what you want and know when you want it. Time moves too quickly for you to sustain your desires. You need to be gratified no matter what form the gratification takes. You are pizza, hot dogs and hamburgers.
You have no direction, You are scattered to the winds. You lack purpose and are easily influenced and swayed by your peers.You take on the shapes and the images of those things you like and disregard those things that you don't. You are a bowl of spaghetti.
You seek adventure and sometimes it seems as if adventure seeks you. You discover new and wondrous things and re-examine older things and find new meaning in them. Nothing at all seems familiar. You are nouvelle cuisine.
You dabble in experimentation. To your delight, sometimes the experiments work but more often than not they don't. You feel disappointment and the disappointment leads to more experimentation. You don't know if this is good or bad. The things that at one time seemed so new now sometimes seem so stale. You try to look at things from a new perspective. You are a trendy restaurant.
Your pace is slackening and you are slowing down some. You try and enjoy this easier pace that life has afforded you. You tend to tire a little more quickly and for the most part feel a sense of contentment that has somehow snuck up on you. You are a backyard barbecue.
You try and offer comfort when comfort is needed. Your friends are mostly old ones and for the most part you crave what is familiar. It takes you longer to do many things and the addition of time seems to be worth the effort. You realize you will never achieve perfection and somehow you are okay with that. You seem to be getting more tender with age. You are a pot roast.