By the time I finished showing houses late Sunday afternoon, I was exhausted and starving. It had been a busy weekend and I suddenly realized I hadn’t eaten all day. But what did I want?
I felt a gnawing craving inside. It was a familiar craving, but what was it for? Was it for steak? Pizza? Chicken? I genuinely felt confused.
I’ve gone through this odd process a thousand times before. I’m hungry but everything I think of feels wrong. I stopped at a couple of restaurants, thinking they might be what I needed, but each time I stopped, I felt a cold emptiness — because I realized what I needed wasn’t inside.

Federal budget numbers too big to comprehend? This makes it simple
Real-life ‘ghost story’: The tale of a house that didn’t want me there
I’ve lost all interest in begging anyone to fix the political system
Rand Paul filibuster brings GOP rats out into the light for us all to see
Goodbye, Anne (2009-2019)
If president can just ignore laws, what’s the purpose of having laws?
Cat’s ordeal reminds me that bad things happen right under my nose
In a sane world, everyone would think and act exactly the way I do
When it comes to ideas, should we prefer complexity or simplicity?