Metamorphosis

I was lying in bed one night, thinking about how depressed I was and wishing my life were different, when I suddenly came face-to-face with a fundamental truth in life: I can make my life different if I want to. I don’t have to be a Registered Nurse; I don’t have to finish my MBA degree.

I could sell my house, buy an RV, and drive around the country, picking up odd jobs to pay for food and gasoline, and I could write about everything I experience. I could move, completely relocate to another city, state, country. I could work at Starbucks, or become a stripper. Better yet, I could start a company of older strippers, and those who live in bodies that are outside the airbrushed “Hollywood norm.” We could show men who are brave enough what feminine beauty and sexuality is really all about (I’ve actually had some volunteers in case I decide to form this company)!

But anyway, I was also thinking about change, and about frogs and butterflies and other creatures for whom metamorphosis is a way of life. And I started to think, what if all creatures underwent metamorphosis? What if humans metamorphosed (is that a word)? Would we somehow create a cocoon and hibernate in the winter? What would we turn into? Actually, part of me is convinced that if I had spent my teen years in a cocoon and emerged as an adult, I would be much better off. But I digress.

What if there were no rules about metamorphosis? What if I went to sleep tonight and woke up tomorrow, as, say, a giraffe? My neck would be stiff from lying in that tiny bed and my hooves would all be stuck out on one side. The funny thing is, I wouldn’t be able to get out of my house: no opposable thumbs. I would have to hope that one of my cats turned into a human while I was becoming a giraffe. I would also have to hope that neither of my cats turned into something that preyed on giraffes!

Suddenly, my thoughts jumped to Spiderman, and how Peter Parker was bitten by a spider and began to have spider-like talents. The absurdity of this hit me as I realized that spiders actually produce their webs from what would be the equivalent of our rear ends—if there can be a human/spider anatomical equivalent in the first place. How convenient that Spiderman actually spins webs from his hand.

I suppose that if Stan Lee wanted to be “anatomically correct,” he could finesse something in his cartoons, but I doubt that people would have flocked to see movies about a guy who shoots silk from his butt.

I guess I’ll stick with the RN/ business degree thing for awhile. And anyway, if I turn into something else, I will try to find someone with opposable thumbs to let all my friends know what happened. If you happen to see a giraffe in a hospital…oh, never mind!