If Wishes Were Horses...

...then beggars would ride.

Yeah, I'm in a mood. Again.

I wish that people who drive in the fast lane below the speed limit would get zits. Big fat ones.

I wish that one day the construction in Houston on the freeway would be magically complete, thus avoiding the wondrous game of "Dude, Where's My Lane?"

I also wish that Odysseys got fabulous gas mileage, or ran on margarine.

I wish that people who assume I know what's going on would go ahead and talk to me as if I didn't know. Really. I don't mind being clued in.

I wish I had the nerve to look for a better job doing what I used to do before that got sidetracked. I used to love going to work. Now it's a grievous thing, full of anxiety and depression. Even when I'm right, it feels wrong.

Or I wish I could get one of the many businesses I've wanted to launch out there. That'd be more fun, calling the shots and making the decisions. I'm an administrator at heart, not a salesperson, so it's tempting to get to it next week. Or next year. Plus, we're poor just now, so no capital.

I wish Ross would record my kids song so I can hear it. It's been months since I handed it over.

I wish I had another song in me. In fact, I wish I had eleventy. All I got now is one on manners. Half of it anyway.

I wish I had more help with carnival. One friend is kicking the crap out of the to-do lists. Everyone else is just looking at me, waiting for something to happen, or avoiding me so I won't ask them to do anything.

I wish that I had bookshelves for all the books I have. I'd have lots of freed-up storage boxes.

I wish puppeteers without the name "Henson" or "Oz" were better respected.

I wish the Dyson fairy would visit me.

I wish that I didn't feel so outside my skin lately.