Abort, retry, fail?

When I think about it, I have plenty of blog-worthy (that isn't saying much, I know) adventures. A little over a year ago I shaved my head, so I have lived the life of a bald woman in a conservative state. I have a liberal arts degree and spent some time working as an Office Bitch. My current job offers plenty of contact with all kinds of different people.

But the thing that gets me back here to write is my dog. I got a dog two weeks ago, and sometimes I get the feeling that I'm her sidekick. She drags me around, up and down hills in the park, making me feel three times older than I am, and then looks at me quizzically when I can't keep up. She explores creeks the way I like to. When I watched her for a little while last Friday, I felt like I was watching a reversal of a common daydream I used to have - a dog with an imaginary little girl running alongside. So, of course, I chased her - the dog - because I want to be what I always wanted to be. That's not too much to ask.