I've always prided myself on being self-sufficient. I don't mind my meager existence because I know I can afford it. This isn't to say I wouldn't trade my hubris for the chance to marry an independently wealthy older man who spends his time doing business in China's asphalt jungle -- in fact, I'd like it if he frequently roamed far from home. How else am I supposed to ignore his sixth toe or age spots or whatever other ailment would befall my cougar companion.
Since this wealthy prey appears to have escaped my clutches I must do whatever is necessary to make ends meet. Sometimes this involves skipping my morning brew or lunchtime cocktail, other times it means disconnecting cable once my three months free trial has expired. And sometimes, as was the case last week, I am forced to give myself my own bikini wax. This task is rather difficult as it involves many awkward angles, but I am preternaturally flexible and should have had little problem removing any unwanted hair. All was going well until an overzealous tug pulled something in my back. For two days I lay in bed admiring my perfectly coiffed landing strip and watching Animal Planet. All this time alone got me wondering if self sufficiency is such a great thing. In nature some animals go it solo while others live in packs; each grouping filling their niche and becoming perfectly adapted to their environment. But what about people? Are humans meant to be lone hunters or cohabitants? Can we be a little of each? Can a lonely hunter ever live peacefully among the embittered hunted?
No comments:
Post a Comment