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.

Upcoming Romney-Obama contest says this is what Americans want
Whether it makes sense or not, I’ve learned to expect miracles
Calm and perspective needed for Boston, not accusations and games
Spoiled brat sues White Castle because he can’t fit into a booth
The drama of a world gone mad leaves me longing for real peace
My need to make others perfect reflects my fear I’m not in control
Police or storm troopers: What’s become of U.S. law enforcement?
The Alien Observer: Minneapolis riots might be preview of future