I grew up digging through cereal boxes, in search of the prize that lay buried beneath the Coco Peebles and invariably experienced the same anguish each time. Iron-on patches and coin-sized eyeglasses never held my attention very long, no matter how shiny the foil wrapper glimmered. There's a life lesson there, but it's lost on me. I have always been prone to daydreams. Lately, it has been a dream involving thousands of fans lined up outside a Barnes & Noble, waiting for me to autograph my latest book. I should really get started on that book. My life is a jumble of short stories that has created a substantial narrative and has desperately sought continual resolution to the conflict. Has this metaphor gone too far? Sorry about that. In all reality, I hate the taste of envelopes and cole slaw. I'm creative and love the creative process. I am an introvert that loves to be around people I can care about and be cared for in return. As I grow older, I plan on learning the art of talking with strangers and smiling at young people. And I have yet to meet someone I find boring as long as they are willing to discuss why they do what they do. A person's story is worth sharing.