Yesterday after work I picked up the dog’s medication, dropped some books off at the library, then went back to our apartment we’re still moving out of to get our plants and bring them to the new house. 

Oh, and I bought mouthwash.

I seem to have turned into the kind of person who would bore Mr. Rogers.  When did this happen? 

Was there a fork in the road a few years back that I ignored?  Some missed opportunity; a pivotal moment in my life when I had the chance to become a roadie for KISS or to join an astronaut shuttle program, and I blew it? 

Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for the life I have.  But I sometimes wonder:  In some parallel universe is there a wilder, more carefree version of me climbing Mount Everest or riding wild horses across the desert?