This Might Make Sense Tomorrow

So, something you should know about me: I am random.

Just in case you did not know, or in case you randomly forgot. I am random and I make major life decisions kind of randomly.

When I was about 8 I randomly decided I wanted to be an actress even though I was terrified of performing.

At age 12 I randomly declared (only to myself) I was going to be a musician even though I could not read music or play any instrument. By age 13 I figured I'd just magically learn to sing on key and everything would be fine.

Still can't read music, play an instrument, and even though I sing on a daily basis and took voice lessons for two years, I can't sing on key.

At age 14, while sitting in church staring at the back of his head, I randomly decided that I was going to date my first boyfriend. A year later, I clued him in on this fact by writing a very long epic novel, which I started randomly because...

At age 15, I randomly decided instead of sitting in study hall doing nothing, I was going to write. So, I simply began writing. And writing and writing and writing.

At age 18, I randomly decided to go to Beloit College because they had sink in their dorm rooms. (And Illinois Wesleyan had wait listed me, which pissed me off. Never make big choices while pissed off.)

At age 20, I randomly decided my major while walking passed Campbell Hall, where my adviser just happened to be located. This is why I cannot answer the question, "Why did you become a political science major?" I honestly don't know, other than it sounded good at the moment, so I did it.

At age 22, I randomly announced I was never going to find a boy, so I was never going to look again. (I never really looked for one before, they always found me...but that is not the point.) The point is due to the random announcement, my friend asked if she could hook me up with her boyfriend's roommate. And a year and seven months after meeting the roommate, I married him. And I did not do it randomly. I pestered him for a few months, then planned for a few months, then yelled as he tried to ruin the whole thing, then finally married him.

And, at the age of 24, I decided I wanted a sewing machine because I was going to sew my own clothes. (I can't sew clothing.)

At the ripe old age of 25, I decided I wanted to make handbags and sell them because it sounded kind of random to me. And made little sense, as I hate sales. But I sell things.

And, while walking to get the mail at the ripe of age of 26, I decided I was a writer.

Yeah, you read that right. I am a writer. Why? Because I write. I write so much the fact that the desk we own is three inches too high has caused my wrists to constantly ache and I have to sit on three pillows and use a footstool because I can't touch the ground. I am of average height, but the desk was custom made for my not average female height husband. 

What is the point of this random entry? Well, mostly to tell you I randomly decided to become a writer and now you have the back story, so come back tomorrow to get the rest.