This morning I was once again facing the funk I have been in lately. It reared it's ugly head. I went back to bed and thought about the post I planned to write when I got up. The one that was going to say something about how I was feeling. Unchosen. I felt unchosen. Which at this point I really can't explain, because I have not had a chance to process that thought. It was just the word that came to mind. So I fell asleep feeling unchosen. I woke up feeling unchosen. I took a shower. I got ready for my day. All the while I felt that unchosen feeling. But I had things to do so I did them and forgot that I was supposed to be feeling unchosen. I stopped trying to process it. And now all I can really remember about that post I planned to write was that I was thinking about going to a dog breeder and looking at puppies. There were two left. One was going to be chosen and the other left behind. Unchosen. The person doing the choosing never goes back to the breeder to make sure the unchosen puppy found a home. To make sure the unchosen puppy is ok. They just take the puppy they chose and never look back. That was as far as I got. I don't know what it means or where it came from. It just was.
It reminded me of the time my family went to a dog breeders to pick a puppy. There were only two left. We couldn't choose between the two of them so we chose both. We couldn't leave either one unchosen.