As a symptom of existentialism, I have taken to berating myself for not accomplishing X or Y. Why haven’t I sold a screenplay yet? Oh, you have to write one first. But I have so many ideas! Can’t people just sense their genius and fill in the blanks?

So I have lowered my sights. I am going to do absolutely nothing with my life. This, now this is meat I can sink my teeth into. This is a caribou, freshly killed by a Palin. ATTACK!  Right now I am in bed, eating chocolates, without a care in the world! It’s amazing what adjusting one’s expectations can do. I had best expect not to gain weight from these chocolates. Life’s a beach!