So, I thought I'd answer a few of the thousands of questions we get here at Not Born to Run Headquarters!
Q. Why do you insist on buying things and then taking them back?
A. I hate and detest shopping. So when I'm in a store, and that would only be during a most desperate occasion, like, say for instance, I'd just gone through my entire wardrobe and given away everything that was too big, or too see through, or too 1978, what happens is I buy more than I can afford, I buy things that I don't need or that don't match, or I buy things that Number One Daughter thinks look hot. She's 20. OK? See?
It's a system. A very complicated, complex, psychological system.
Q. Describe a typical day in the life of NBTR.
A. What is this, the Ms. America contest?
5:40: Wake up.
5:41 Plug in instant water boiler thing-y.
5:42 Wash last night's dishes.
5:43: Eat instant oatmeal (no sugar, jon) with soy milk.
5:43-5:57: Eat oatmeal, read various papers, journals until I realize with a jolt what time it is.
5:57: Dress (sometimes this takes two full minutes).
5:58: Brush teeth, run comb thru hair.
5:59 Make pb sandwich, grab yogurt.
6:00 Dash out door, down elevator (lazy) and walk across the street to buy the Washington Post from the box. I used to have it delivered until I got into a thang with the delivery grandpa: I thought 9ish was a little late, he disagreed.
6:05 Buy Post, head for bus terminal.
6:06 Sit at terminal, wait for one of three different bus lines.
6:12 Hop on bus with the number "47." (Here is the Fatal Error. The Blue Screen of Death, if you will.)
6:13-6:30: Bury nose in paper. Casually glance out window. Uh-oh.
6:31: Casually ask bus driver which direction he is going, knowing full well the sad, sorry answer.
6:32: Get off bus in some godforsaken suburb. Cross street, pray that I have the right change, and wait for the other "47."
6:45: Get on the correct "47." Have ceased feeling superior to everyone else.
7:30: Arrive at destination 45 minutes late. (Hey you, wake up! This is good stuff here!)
7:30-7:37: Walk to work.
7:37: If I'm good, report directly to locker room, change and go out for run.
7:37: If I'm not so good, fire up e-mail and get sucked in.
8:15: Let's say I was good. Back from run. Shower, hair, makeup.
9:00: Now I'm screwed, because I have only 30 minutes to read (=scan) two more newspapers, and check the wires.
9:30: Daily stand-up editorial meeting.
9:45: Prepare for 10 am presentation, of which I was notified the night before.
10:00-11:30: Give presentation to salespeople. Are there any salespeople in the room? There are not.
12:00: Meeting FINALLY ends. God help me.
12:00-1:00: Try to actually work.
1:00-4:30: Attend steering committee meeting on future of the "endeavor" (small "e").
4:30: Skip out at 4:30 because it's deadline/production day and I have work to do.
4:31: Get e-mail from someone who stayed in meeting, asking "where are you guys?" (Oh, don't ask.)
4:32-6:30: Finally start work for the day!
6:30: Number One Daughter arrives from her job downtown, wants to use workout room.
6:30-7:15: Hang around, waiting for NOD.
7:15-7:22: Walk to bus.
7:22-8:00: On bus, trying to read, but should really bond with NOD. No reading.
8:10: PB sandwich.
8:10: Watch some crap on TV.
9:00: Start my volunteer gig! Send 27,000 e-mails to my volunteer boss. He loves that.
9:15: Intersperse writing scintillating NBTR post, along with dipping in and out of blogs, with volunteer gig.
11:00: Finish volunteer gig. For tonight. (Do you feel sorry for me yet? No??!?)
4:00: Wake wondering if I've overslept. Repeat this a few times. It's fun!
5:40: Clock radio goes off, plays "I've Got You, Babe." Wait. A. Minute. Get germ of idea for a really good movie plotline!
I hope this fully satisfies my fan's curiosity!