Next

Why is life a series? Why is there a first, next, and then, finally... We are taught from children about beginning-middle-end, and then here we are, in lives, waiting for the next step. The big conflict. The denoument.

I am sitting in my kitchen, eating chocolate cake, wondering what I will do next. This is an idea I have been batting around ever since Gatsby left. I need something new to focus on, some next Big Project.

1. I am fat. It would be good to be the next Ms. Universe. I am considering it. Although I don't enjoy every workout nearly as much as I should for a hobby to which I would consider devoting a significant percentage of waking hours.

2. I could revisit the plan to watch every Academy Award Best Picture-winning film. Hrm. It would require renewing my blockbuster subscription and replacing my DVD player.

3. Finishing the house. Which will never be done and will forever be an ongoing hobby, really. The joy of homeownership.

4. I have been invited to sit on the board of a local theatre company, which it seems I will end up doing. I don't want to commit to them before I really have the faith that I believe in what they are doing. Maybe that just means I should go see their show this weekend and figure out if they deserve my energy.

5. There is always My theatrical sidebar. The production of one-woman shows. The preparation of audition pieces. Taking of headshots. I'm not so good without deadlines.

6. Honestly, I have seriously considered taking up golf. I might enjoy it.

For christ's sake - here I am, desperately searching for something to do that has two major qualities: (A) it is new (and therefore, I can learn something, which I find very fulfilling) and (B) it is fun.

Why is this such a hard target?