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.

Why do so many find it funny to embarrass the people they love?
Donald Trump is no conservative; he’s an immoral, narcissistic liar
My programming from childhood still equates blame with shame
Some of us feel rage at authority, even as disobedience can hurt us
What do you love enough to want once more before life slips away?
Latest shutdown means most papers where I worked are gone
Where do we go from here? Things are about to get very interesting
Minnesota protects its citizens from the horrors of free education online
We need loving communities so we can know, ‘You’re not alone’