Everyone wants to outsource, I explain.
We think about how nice it would be to crawl into bed, unplug the clock, turn off the phone and just sleep and sleep and sleep until we’ve made up for every wide awake night of the last decade.
We wonder if there are people out there we could pay to take the heaving lifting off our hands. People with impeccable judgment and soothing voices and cool hands as they pat our hair and tell us that things will be just fine now.
We are tempted to just start blurting the truth and not stop or to park at a crazy angle and leave all of the car doors wide open or to eat spaghetti with our bare hands for no other reason than to see what might happen, what dominoes we might knock over.
We contemplate running away. Maybe for a few weeks, maybe forever. A little timeout or slip away in the night and not look back. Just lose. Ourselves, each other, the plot.
And we feel guilty. Because who considers abdicating like that? Who has the gall to imagine themselves so burdened that outsourcing the big decisions and the nitty gritty details doesn’t seem like such a bad idea, merited even?