Man, I always hated that phrase. It was repeated so often to me as a kid. Recently, I've found I'm beginning to revert to childhood. I may only be 42, but there are times I long for the aluminum bat and a telephone post.
how does this relate to writing you ask? It relates a lot. At least in my case. Seems I am a bit of a control freak. Depending on the why and how, change can be a breeze or the seventh level of Hell for me. I don't like to be moved from my original path, unless there's a damned good reason to move--and it better be me making the determination of "damned good".
Ego I guess. I mean , I've up and moved from one of the country to the other, from the West to the Arctic (practically) and back again without much regret. But these were all my decisions and I was making the choice. When things are decided for me, without my being consulted as to the reason why--that's when the bull in me plants its hooves and lowers its horns. That's the watch out moment.
Once I'm past it and have either reached a compromise or walked away, it's over. I may look back on the decisions I've made with some regrets (this is usually when I debate just how I should have handled the situation.)
Kind of a bummer to realize not much has changed--other than the destruction of multiple lunch boxes because I couldn't keep from swinging at the head of my tormentor/victim--in the intervening 30 odd years.
Off to the day job. Hope you all have a wonderful day. 19 days until Christmas Break. Oh Joy!