can that

I'm NOT desperate! I'm NOT a loser!

I say that with a grin. I made, for the first time ever, biscuits. Lacking a biscuit cutter, I used a juice glass instead, and the biscuits are nearly perfect. Okay, a little doughy at the very center, but yay, they're yummy!

Who needs to go anywhere on a Saturday? I have an oven.

Domestic bliss. Now if I just had a cat...

So. There's the note of happiness. Obviously I feel wretchedly guilty leaving a negative post without some sort of yang to compensate for it. I must at all costs appear happy and successful. For the most part it's true, even if "successful" means "selling enough clothes at Ann Taylor to keep my managers happy." Maybe I'm trying to fool myself. Maybe I'm trying to fool everybody else. Granted, I never thought my life would lead me here; as a child I firmly believed that by twenty-three I would be a staid married woman with a child on the way and two books published. Instead, I'm sitting in mismatched pajamas in my own apartment, with the Christmas tree that I decorated by myself, watching the fine windless snowfall and typing a blog about being single, unpublished, and marginally employed.

Well. So here I am.