I need a big soul kiss from the universe right now and I'm just not getting it. It feels like it's time to Explore Big Stuff. All because I spent a depressing half hour looking through want ads the other day (after not replying to the e-mail from the guy who found my resume on Hot Jobs and wants me to market his fancypants product), and I realized that, fulfilling and noble though motherhood often is, I better get off my glutes and find another justification for my existence pretty soon because Sir Napalot will be changing my diapers before I know it and I'll have done nothing more with my life than write some forgettable travel articles and complain. Yes, I know, there was that mopey post from last week where I decided that being the Artful Blogger could take the place of actual creative work. But There Must Be More To Life and it just keeps slipping out of reach. That little part of me that cries along with Alanis Morrisette, the part that I've worked so hard to squish to death? It always slithers back to life, then it wraps its tendrils around my heart and squeezes real hard when I'm trying to be ordinary and make a grilled cheese sandwich or buy a microwave oven at Costco.
Thanks for the book, though, Barry, it made my day.