Happy Little Trees

Where am I going?

How did I get here?
And where am I going?!

Is it that Oh! The Places You’ll Go! book from high school graduation that has cursed me?

I have a restless energy that makes me want to go backpack across Europe, or plan a wedding for myself and a mystery man, or tour all the Starbucks in the U.S. playing my guitar, or visit elementary schools in all cities that begin with the letter “T” so I can read the children poems from Shel Silverstein using funny voices.

But that is ridiculous. I sound like a college graduate whose sorority letters have not yet begun to peel off her windshield or fade from her plastic cup from Rush Week 1993. I have been out of college 10 years. 10 years!! Children get potty trained, learn to read, and sometimes smoke their first cigarette in that period of time.

This, my friends, is the reason I need sleep. What you just experienced is my brain deprived of it.

Note: In sound mind and body format, I was not a member of a college sorority (unless BSU counts), and I do not support cigarettes beyond what is necessary to fund the great Commonwealth of Kentucky’s farmers.