I was walking home in the rain the other night and I passed a coffee shop that was open late for an art show. I considered going inside, but continued on, wondering why I don’t make art and hang it in coffee shops.
Once I was home, wet clothes discarded, I watched a movie. It wasn’t particularly great, but I found myself wondering why I don’t make movies.
After the movie, I read for a while. As I turned the pages and slowly began to fall asleep, I wondered why I don’t write books.
As I crawled out of bed this morning, it occurred to me that it’s Friday. I thought of the possibilities. I decided I would most definitely spend my weekend putting off a much needed trip to Target and drinking cheap wine from a box.
Happy end-of-the-week to you. You’re almost out of toothpaste.