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Oprah talks about finding your passion — or so I've read in the popular magazines.
Okay well, I'm not Christiane Amanpour. Twenty-year old me dreamed of being a journalist, reporting from far-off lands, the wind whipping through my tousled hair as I did my stand up from the current international hotspot. I did get into J school. Graduated even. Did I mention I now work in the deadly serious world of PR?
Mind you, current-aged me couldn't bear an international hotspot — I get stressed in a crowded nightspot. So things worked out for the best.
Now I'm looking for my new passion. Not for now, but for my second career down the road. I've settled on furniture design. Drooling over Ligne-Roset cinched it. Or maybe they'd hire me to work in a retail outlet. I'd be good, I'd keep my drooling to a minimum. Plus, I give good customer service.
But where does that leave my comedy writing for Saturday Night Live or my North American tour?
Ah well, too many passions — and I'm just a prude.
Anti-cranky pants! Well, it's still working...and I'm no longer cranky about the lack of food pleasure in my life. Damn, I can't express how much I'm loving spinach salad. Celery rocks. Pass the fruit bowl and f'ing hooray for yogurt. I feel fine. Honest.
Curtains! After a month of planning, I 'm almost ready to hang some new curtains. Rust colored velour. (In the absence of simple carbohydrates, curtains are really really exciting.) I also bought some new shoes instead of having a Big Mac.
