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.

Those of us eager to meet Jesus aren’t eager to depart this world
In the great new culture war over Thanksgiving shopping, I’m neutral
Personal growth feeds a romance, but lack of honesty destroys love
Target’s ID requirement for cold medicine is invasion of privacy
Be careful what you hunger for; it’s very often not what you need
Booing Ron Paul evidence that voters don’t want honest conversation
If Boston bombing suspect doesn’t have rights, neither do the rest of us
Reaction to Googler’s memo says, ‘Diversity is good if you conform’