I have decided that, given these dire, greyed-out recessionary times, I am going to get serious. I'm going to stop looking at the world as an endless source for my amusement. Stop daydreaming about never ending baker's dozen assortments of doughnuts and the latest shoes for spring and how totally cool my life would be roaring around town in a 1970 Chevy El Camino SS 396. I'm going to stop worrying about what would happen if my grocery store ever quit carrying Fresca or whether I'm too old for mid thigh hemlines or if I should bump Daniel Craig up to the number five position on Moi's List of Pretend Husbands or leave him to languish where he most probably belongs: somewhere around number eight or nine.
Instead, by the end of the day? The all new, recycled, pared down, sensible-shoed, 40-watt bulbed, kind and caring "me" will have taken over this Blob.
In other words, my life from this point on will quit being All About Moi.
Sigh. I feel liberated already.