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i realized this morning i am not an astronaut.
as a kid, when asked what i was going to be when i grew up, i always claimed astronaut (except for a week when i was five and i really wanted to be a milk man).
anyway, never once did i say graphic designer. where did i get off track and how come i didn't notice i was off track till now? when did i settle for all this mediocrity. all the sudden i am flooded with childhood memories of incomplete plans i was making for adulthood.
i don't have a house with a drawbridge and moat.
i don't eat twinkies for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
i don't have a fireman's pole in my house.
i don't have a retractable moon roof above my bed.
i don't wear a yellow jump suit with lots of pockets.
i didn't marry i dream of jeannie.
i don't have a secret hole in my backyard that leads to china.
i don't have a chocolate cow producing chocolate milk.
i don't don't have a smoking pet monkey wearing a fez hat on his hea... er, forget that one.
so, where did my life go so terribly wrong? perhaps i am not too far off track, i do have an astronauts hair cut. know where i can get a good deal on a used space suit?