I have self-diagnosed my current malaise, "the Penelope Complex."
Penelope waited for Ulysses for 20 years... fighting off suitors and weaving/unweaving a rug. She didn't even recognize him when he returned, but her dog did. I need a dog like that. One to sniff the streams of men that come to my door, and let me know which one is the right one.
Monday, June 27, 2005
where is Fido?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment