Sometimes We Don't Know What We Want

I Definitely Rediscovered Reading For Pleasure By Devoting Such A Large Swath Of My Time To Sitting On Airplanes. I Am Now Painfully Adept At Removing My Shoes So As To Have The Least Amount Of Foot Surface Area Touching An Airport Floor.

They Say It's Not The Snoring Itself But Those Anxiety-packed Moments In Between Snorts. It's The Waiting For The Nasal Passages Of The Person Lying Beside You To Strike Again. And Strike It Always Does. In The Dark, Almost Against Your Will, You Produce That Special Glare Reserved For People Who Cannot Control Their Own Behaviour.

Since Graduation, I Have Measured Time In 4-by-5-inch Pieces Of Paper, Four Days On The Left And Three On The Right. Every Social Engagement, Interview, Reading, Flight, Doctor's Appointment, Birthday And Dry-cleaning Reminder Has Been Handwritten Between Metal Loops.

The Hardest Thing Is Spending Twelve Hours A Day Accommodating The Rest Of The World, Then Going Home At Night And Criticizing It. I Would Be Curious About What I'd Write If I Didn't Have To Worry About Offending.

Ah, The Power Of Two. There's Nothing Quite Like It. Especially When It Comes To Paying Utility Bills, Parenting, Cooking Elaborate Meals, Purchasing A Grown-up Bed, Jumping Rope And Lifting Heavy Machinery. The World Favours Pairs. Who Wants To Waste The Wood Building An Ark For Singletons?