What am I doing and where do I go? I can choose between the bougainvillea or the bag. The conflict within my cerebral cortex may be permanent. I prepare for the constant battle between what I strive for and what I settle for. But beauty endures throughout. At first glance, the eye spots the faded fuchsia bougainvillea. She extends her arms through the fence, showing off her parched pale pink petals. Her allure is undeniable. The empty plastic bag sadly billows by the fence. Despite my desire for the bougainvillea, I must first throw away the bag. Of course beauty seems like the most valid option, but the plastic bag might contain a lesson or two.