I used to have an acquaintance who insisted that "Life is only what you make of it, darling." She was a cruel woman; she knew the only thing I was really good at was making a mess. Sarcasm flowed from her the way lava flowed from a volcano - just a natural, inevitable, dangerous thing. She was so talented that most people never saw her zingers coming, although some of them did catch on several hours later. By then she was safely gone, of course, which I assume is the reason she's managed to survive this long.
I was going to say I miss her, but I've changed my mind. I think I'm okay with her absence. My friends now are wonderfully supportive and that's a great thing. With their support, I've learned that I do have a few talents, and I'm not afraid to try things even when it's a pretty sure bet I won't succeed the first time. Failure can be enlightening.
My life may be a study in unnatural selection, but it works for me.
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