You know what’s frustrating? When you’re having a moment of certifiable (certified by whom? By me!*) genius, and there is no one around to tell about it. This happens to me all the time.
Take, for instance, right now. RIGHT THIS MINUTE, blogosphere!
I am in the midst of a genius moment, and I call Valerie, and does she answer? No. Where is she? Nobody knows. I call my mother, and she doesn’t answer, and it’s six hours ahead of us in the Netherlands! What is she doing at 8:00, not answering her Skype line? I’ll tell you what. She’s out flirting with Dutch men, that’s what. And Karen. Karen is off at some library, somewhere, doing who knows what. She’s probably at the Library of Inaccessible Friends, reshelving volume upon volume of books like How To Not Witness Your Friends’ Moments Of Brilliance, or Never Buy A Cell Phone Just To Frustrate People With Genius Emergencies. And Jill. Where’s Jill?
OK. Joan just texted back, and she agrees that I’m a genius. I feel better now.
I ask for so little.