The other day someone asked me, "What would make you happiest?"
I answered, "Um. A bucket full of puppies?
Man, I don't know. True love and high adventure? I'm pretty happy as it is. Maybe what would make me happiest would be for life to keep going just as it is only even more--more traveling, an awesome fella to have adventures with, a job where I am more involved in the mission. Or maybe that's greedy, and I just want to keep getting to have a good time with some of the smartest, most creative people ever.
Also, I would like to be about nine inches taller and about two times hotter. And, world peace."
I've been thinking about that ever since--I would have to be someone else if my brains weren't constantly chattering at me about something--because it didn't seem quite right. Could that actually be true? When did life live along to the point where it was so awesome that I no longer need something different, but instead more of the same? Shouldn't there have been a memo or something? I mean, missing an awesome fella, a closer proximity to outer space, and someone else's face (ok, and world peace) is the same thing as not missing anything at all. All the more parts are things I can and have plans to do myself.
Thing is, it feels true. Which is...a bit of a surprise, although it shouldn't be, since it's what I've been aiming at. I'd give myself a high five if I hadn't already tried that and so wasn't already aware of how silly it looks. I guess now I really need to get to work on finding that bucket of puppies.
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