Everyone wants to find their calling. I want to be Nancy Drew, but Carolyn Keene (who herself, it turns out, had multiple personalities of a sort) already took that identity. Even more important than the fact that Nancy Drew is already taken, is not real, and has impossibly perfect "titian" hair that I will never possess, is the fact that Nancy Drew left her house. Regularly.
Depending on which edition you read, it was either in a coupe that domesticated women probably never dared to drive in the 1930's, or a sleek convertible that modern girls in the 1960's might dare, but could rarely afford. Either way, with titian hair flapping in the breeze, she went imaginary places and did imaginary things that real girls everywhere long to do. Nancy Drew did not suffer from mental illness, rest assured.
I've given up my plan to lead Bess and George on faraway and daring adventures, and even to have adventures in a world as exotic and distant as the produce section of the grocery store. Leaving home is sometimes scary without heavy medication, and law and common sense frown on driving with it. Anyway, I truly enjoy my own universe, in my own mind, in my own home. I read voraciously and watch TV, both bad and really really bad, I don't cook, I clean too much (OCD) and I sleep mostly during the day. And I think my life is great. I look forward to hearing how some of you who can relate spend your lives, in your homes. And, I wouldn't mind living vicariously through those of you who venture out once in a while, either...
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