Iowa

I sleep with books now. Several months, or possibly years, ago a friend complained to me about a poor night's sleep. "A stack of books tipped over on me in the middle of the night." I didn't understand. I thought she was crazy. I suppose I'm crazy now too.

I am almost, but not quite, the person I wanted to be. Almost satisfied with nearly every aspect of my life. It is equilibrium and I am content. Gone is the ever present dread of near success; the sense that failure is near. Nor am I the hopeless, helpless wreck of weary underachievement. I am something like, but not quite the same, as a responsible adult.

I suppose this is what it is to be near the peak of the bell curve.