Yesterday was the perfect day.

The weather was just warm and toasty, I felt groggy and good after my morning cappuchino, I had a little change in my pocket, had this new linen shirt on, my best pair of jeans, and it was good to just have all that time to myself to drive, explore, stop by and view some art and just know I have nowhere to go but I am going to keep on going anyway. It's too beautiful to stay indoors. A perfect Sunday.

You would think a perfect day would lead to a perfect week. Not so, not from the feel of last night and today.

Last night my upstairs neighbor has a love affair with her TV and I can't get any sleep, I don't know if it's the double expresso or just CNN at 1AM that is making sleep seem so evasive.

I go to work, and there are a lot of issues. I am just not happy doing what I do. It is not the worse thing ever, and it's good money but I am always stuck thinking: so this is it, so what else, where can we go from here so we don't keep saying, yes sir, no sir for the rest of our adult life.

I have a high level of happiness attainment. It takes a great deal to get me happy or it could also be the simple things: the weather, the fact that I can enjoy a simple morning with expresso, a relaxed pair of jeans and just a gentle walk through the mall without bumping into mothers and children. Simple things. And then, there are the complicated things, like : I went to school for 6 years of my life, all that to end up as what, why don't I look forward to doing what I do, why do I feel like I am going to be blamed for every little mishap that happens.

It is an endless struggle, the search for profound long-lasting happiness. Sometimes, when I think I am so close, I just know those demons would just come visiting and then they'll wonder: are we being complacent with what we have here, what is it that we have that we are resting on our laurels for? What?

I just wished my perfect day would blend into the week. I wish I knew what would truly fill the hole in my heart and make my happiness seep through, become longer lasting, and just feel blissful, a radiated kinda bliss.

Yesterday while watching Wanda Sykes--whom I had just dreamt of the day before--she mentioned something about how she feels about aging. She said to combact the fear of aging, she has her mind set that she has not aged since she turned 26. For her that is a good age, a good time, an inbetween woman, lady, girl time. I just thought back and I just couldn't remember anything of consequence that occurred to me when I was 26. So I moved to America which was one of the biggest mistakes of my life. So I achieved the life long dream of living with her, and then I spent a whole year doing nothing. Not going to school, not producing, nothing. I just waited. I DO NOT want to be 26 again. It was the most inconsequential year of my life. And I hope and swear that 29 is not following right behind it.

The source of this hole is still unknown and I am sure in some aspects even God is puzzled by it. He is probably going: I give up. I give you America, give you the 9-5, give you your own apartment, a new car and still you're not happy. What is with you woman?

I do not know. A little more creativity perhaps. The chance to pick my own hours, a sense of adventure in my tasks, and a little trust in my abilities. Then, of course there's that power lunch factor that I've talked about incessantly. And Europe. I would love Europe. Just in case He is taking requests. And some of them are randonmly touched on below in my depraved wishlist.

I just want the choice to know I am climbing a ladder of adventure and opportunity and if at any point I don't see that in my immediate future I sink into this. I am a woman after all.