Ze angst, she weighs heavily on me tonight.

[chanaleh]

All I want is...

a job that is more than 50% fun/energizing stuff and less than 50% niggling crap hanging over my head that I hate, but still pays at least $40k a year -- or preferably enough to afford... a home of my own with a private porch or a garden, an adequate supply of dark and quiet, and more than four rooms -- but still within walking distance of... a shul community where I can have the religious experience that I want, BUT my every shortfall does not land directly on the shoulders of someone already as overburdened as I am.

-- And a partner who merits and inspires and needs (or actually wants) my love, in all its depths and facets. ('Cause getting any two out of those three is all very well, but it's not what I truly want.)

(Oh, and a couple of beautiful Jewish children before I'm 40. And to be able to stay in New England forever. And voice lessons again, and an excuse to get myself out dancing more than once a year, and a 10-day trip to Israel, -- and fine, while I'm at it, a convertible. And a puppy.)

Is that so wrong?

... Is this PMS? Pesach-induced blood sugar swings? Post-[seder] letdown? Work stress? Shul stress? Vicarious prod-week stress? Loneliness? Plain old out-of-sorts?

Nothing that a hot bath and an early bedtime couldn't fix, I suppose. At least, except for the part where I failed to send my mom even a birthday card on time (for today), but it's too late to worry about that for now. All I can do is call her up.

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