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.

When you compromise principles, you soon won’t recognize yourself
Evil media bias? It depends on which lens you’re looking through that day
I’m horrified that it’s become so difficult for me to finish a book
What if we’re more talented than our inner fears allow us to admit?
Do you obey petty rules? Or do you fight The Man in hopes of change?
What if people don’t really care about understanding each other?
I want the culture to value smart women more than ‘hot’ women
My need to rescue my child self fuels my urge to rescue animals