As I walk through the valley of writing rejection...

I apologize in advance. Two or three people will appreciate this column but I cannot write anything else until I ponder my delinma in writing. It was easier when I could share my deepest, darkest, questions at The Gingermen. They were never solved back then either but the atmosphere was intoxicating and so was the company. The column tomorrow will be a hoot. It's how I came close to taking out 47 bridezillas over the weekend. til then let's see if 30 hours of college philosophy has taught me anything. I doubt it.

A few questions have been stuck in my head lately. Is there a fine line between using your assets (some brains, some boobs, my cripness,) and completely selling out. And if I'm selling out, what is my price? A pitcher of magaritas? A new computer? A used camper? A new van? A vacation home on the beach?

Are we allowed only a certain amount of happiness in life? And can God sue you over a oral contract? 4 years 63 days ago we had a family crisis. Which is very different from a personal crisis because I have those maybe once, twice, an hour. Anyway I prayed, harder then I ever have. And I told God if he made my niece well, we would be even on this born handicapped thing. So was that my big miracle? If it was, it was worth it because today my niece is beautiful, smart, healthy, and tall… although I could do without her tallness. I'm just thinking God should like smack me And say "Hello? Remember? You used your big Miracle.. now leave me alone and please, I'm begging… Stop setting yourself up for the miracle job you so ain't getting." And I'll stop driving myself crazy with harebrained business ideas and get a hobby I can obsess about like golf. Yes, my God has a sense of humor. I think I'm living proof.

I'm at a professional crossroads, no I ain't going to jinx it. Although knowing my luck, I just did. But that's fine. Because I think almost everything in life is a whole lotta work, a little bit of timing, and a ounce of luck. And if I used up all my luck on finding my husband and having such wonderful family and friends, so be it.

I'm sure I can return my new notebook, the popup and the new bedroom set I bought yesterday… ok, I just got them "mentally." Watch, Bobby and I are now going to have a theoretical fight. I can hear him now. "A bedroom set? You'd waste money on a bedroom set when there are other toys we want, you're pathetic."  If y'all wanna see his head explode, threaten to buy him clothes. I can buy clothes. I can buy Nicholas clothes. But if I offer to buy him clothes, them are fighting words.

As I walk through the valley of writing rejection, I do feel better even though this was a weird column. I do apologize. I'm just in one of those wacky moods… Can you believe Bobby accused me of obsessing. I don't obsess. What a nut…

I don't. obsess. Do I? Naw… Gotto go check email for my rejection and the final nail in my writing coffin… Good thing I don't obsess at all.