Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.
Henry David Thoreau

I play the “what if” game with myself. It isn’t so much a regret party - more a wondering who and where I would be if I had zagged instead of zigging. I have talked about this before about how the most innocuous of decisions can change your entire life.

My saying yes to the museum date with the IT guy at Yahoo (Stuart). If I had said no would I still be in Los Angeles? And if still in LA, the next question is would I have gone postal at my office and be in jail serving life?

If I hadn’t been a good Catholic girl, going to mass while I was at University, would I still consider myself a Christian?

If I had not taken the internship in the amazingly disorganized and completely FUBAR literary department at the now defunct Group Theatre in Seattle, would I still be actively involved in that scene?

I wonder if it is the small part of me that still thinks I am a writer that does this. That has this urge to play with the dramatic action dominos and knock them over in another direction. The thing is, if I had zagged, I would be curious about the zig.

I do have certain regrets, most of them around my being a lazy bitch. Not being serious with my writing, not being serious with taking care of my body, not being serious about keeping my long distance friendships healthy. I have long lists in my head about things that I need to do, that I want to do, but somehow let time get away. (I really need to call my Grandparents. Haven’t spoken to them for months and months.)

I think I’m a floater. It’s not that I wait for things to happen to me or that I wait for people to take care of me or sort things for me or carry my over packed luggage - Good fucking god I hate people like that. It is more. . . I just get by leading my life of quiet desperation.

I’m not sure why I do this.

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