A Confession

I have a confession to make.

So I moved to Noo Yuck. It was surprisingly easy. I had braced myself for a perilous uphill battle. I worried myself into indigestion. I prayed that God would open the doors and, if this move was part of His divine will for my life, that He'd glide me into a warm little nook, easy as pie.

And whaddya know?

Getting the apartment was a relative snap. Work (and "work") popped up out of absolutely nowhere just when I needed it the most. Heck, I even got cast in an off-off Broadway show after only about seven auditions.

Yessir, things really seem to be going my way.

But the thing is...

...ever since coming here, I've been wrestling with something. And that something is a real, clear, definite sense of direction and purpose.

I know, I know. This isn't anything new for anybody reading this. In fact, I'm probably just really dense. After all, weren't we supposed to struggle with this--this massive question of "Who am I? What am I doing here?" back in Philosophy 101 while reading Pieper and Kierkeegaaaard?

Maybe it's that I'm second-guessing my decisions. Maybe it's that I'm almost out of money. Maybe it's that nagging voice of my mother in my head telling me, "If you don't make money you'll never be happy (and, for the record, you'll never make enough)!" Maybe it's that new Broadway reality show, which prompted my Grandmother to ask me the other night, "Honey, I never realized how difficult it all was. I don't know how you can do it."

I mean, don't you feel like you would/could/should be doing something...I dunno...MORE with your day than just waiting for something to happen? Waiting for someone to say, "Hey! You're swell, kid! Sign this contract! We're gonna make you a star!"?

Going to the gym helps. Signing up for swordfighting workshops help. Auditioning for Shakespeare Festivals helps. But still...all that feels so...small. Wasn't I supposed to do something BIG?

I thought, "Okay. The doors to Noo Yuck swung wiiiiide open. I'm pretty dang sure I'm supposed to be here. Alright God. I did it. I made the move. Any minute now, you're going to tell me exactly what to do next. Any minute now. Any minute. I'm ready. Whoo boy, am I ready. Yes. Ready. Ready to go. Any minute now. Any minute...

any minute...

any minute now..."

Honestly, folks, I got it in my head that someone in this City knows EXACTLY what I'm supposed to do next. I don't know where that came from, but it's there...That hunch that if I just ask everybody I meet, "WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO NOW?!" I'll finally stumble upon the person who KNOWS. He's out there. I just have to find him. And once I find him, he'll tell me JUST what I'm supposed to do.

Am I rambling?

Holy carp. I just yacked for 40 minutes. Better wrap this up. At Café Netto, time is money.

Enjoy the picture of my niece below. Doesn't she look just like a cookie? Or a starfish?