I do not often talk about what I want, so today I will tell you -- and myself -- what I want. (And now that I think about it, I actually do talk about what I want. A lot. Whatever.)
I WANT
*A foot rub. Even though two of my toes are creepy and I have a lot of calluses, I still want another human to get in there with their fingers and just rub the hell out of them.
*To read the most addictive, compelling, indulgent book. Where is that book? What is it about? Please don't tell me to write it myself. Okay, maybe I should write it myself. Maybe I should write myself. Am I, as a human, addictive, compelling, and indulgent? I highly doubt it. I am more like a pair of REI zip-off pants: Practical, reliable, attractive when paired with Birkenstocks.
*A cat. Obviously. But a cat who lives forever. An immortal cat with wings and maybe even a horn. I want a unicorn, okay?
*To not be addicted to running. I am stubborn when it comes to my run. I don't switch it up. If I don't run the same amount (or more) every single damn day, I failed. I should just go ahead and bring a whip with me to the gym. Ease up on yourself, Meg. Go on a bike ride. Sit down, maybe. Rub your own damn feet. Damn! So many damns!
*To be a park ranger. But not a park ranger who has to arrest anybody. A park ranger who tells ghost stories and roasts marshmallows and makes weed s'mores with THC chocolate and wears that cool hat and carries an official badge and occasionally canoes.
*An endless supply of wasabi, cherry cordial ice cream, fancy vegetable platters, and juuuust ripe enough peaches.
*My own podcast. Well, a podcast with Laura. Imagine! Each week (or every day?!) you could listen to Laura and I talk about pressing issues, such as who will get the kids -- Gwen or Gavin? And is Rihanna a peacock goddess? Do Jay and Queen B like seitan or tempeh better? Who's a better couple -- Miley and Stella or Cara and Annie? Stay tuned.
Thus concludes. Thus concludes what? This post. This post is crap! No, it's not. It's okay. I've written better. But I've also written worse. I shall not compare, though. Time to make some of these wishes come true. I will start with the adoption of a unicorn. (Pics will come soon.) Smell ya later.
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