You’re writing your autobiography. What’s your opening sentence?

“I don’t know whose idea it was to drop me – a naked, screaming BABY- into this world, and then give me a LIFE and RESPONSIBILITIES… good grief. I have been inconvenienced. I feel I am entitled to some sort of compensation and I’d like to speak to the manager.”

I know it’s more than one sentence. But honestly, I have this life and I don’t know what to do with it. I feel like… you know how when you were in school and the teacher was giving directions but you didn’t hear because you were drawing or looking out the window and then you look around and everyone is hard at work but you don’t know what the heck is going on and you can’t ask, because you were supposed to be listening. And you don’t want to look stupid, so you just watch what everyone else is doing and try to do that, but you don’t know what THAT is, so you end up looking stupid anyway. And then the teacher is disappointed in you.

I feel like at the end of my life, when I’m facing my final judgement, God will heave an exasperated sigh and say, “What have you been DOING????”

I don’t know. I just really don’t know.