"Umm, Monty, I'd like to trade this life for what's behind Door Number Two, please."

There's a bit of melancholy in the air here in Okie-land. Maybe it's the heat, maybe it's the sense of time rushing by...but I have a feeling of unrest.

My life as a whole is pretty good, but it's the details of it that have me wondering, "is this all there is?"

I don't remember as a young girl, when daydreaming about my adult life, thinking, "When I grow up, I want to sit at a desk all day, read mind-numbing literature disguised as grants for services for the elderly, and have heated arguments over the cost of a congregate meal." Now see, my job as a whole is good; good hours, a pretty understanding boss, not great money but great benefits. But the details of it....well, it's not the intellectual stimulate that I crave like some kind of Steven Hawking crack-whore.

I feel lonely sometimes. I'm in a bit of a dating rut, much like the Mojave Desert has a bit of sand. What's funny is I don't want the one; I just want a one. I don't need to be "swept off my feet," I just need someone to call and say, "Hey, let's go to dinner and movie. I just want to hang out with you."

In the midst of my melancholy, my computer turned on me yet again. I've wanted to post so many things, but my computer decided, in a word, no.

Me: Please let me on the Internet. I want to update my diary.

Computer: Nope, I'm going to pretend there's no dialtone.

Me: Come on...I just want to email some friends and write a bit.

Computer: You should go outside and enjoy the sunshine.

Me: It's ninety degrees out there.

Computer: Wimp. Go outside and enjoy yourself. Quit moping around the house.

It's pretty sad when the computer's right.

I guess I'm just getting older and realizing that time's running out for "all those things I've always wanted to do." I'm not complaining about getting older....actually, it's kind of nice to start getting to a point in life when I'm realizing that I don't particularly give a rat's ass what anyone else thinks. But see, I'm kind of straddling a chasm here...there's a part of me, that nice, logical older person that says I shouldn't give a rat's ass; but there's also that young voice that says, "but don't you want them to like you?"

And there are still times when the response is, "Yes, very much."