July 12: Expectations

All day long I've been expecting something to happen.  I don't know what, though.  It's just been this feeling, like a buzzing at the base of my skull.  It hasn't come with a sense of foreboding or doom, so I don't think I'm in the middle of any kind of cardiac episode.  Quite the opposite.  It's as if I'm holding the final golden ticket from the last Wonka bar on the planet.

I have nothing to account for this emotion.  No expectations.  I could list a few things that would make me very happy:

1. A tenure-track professorship at the university
2. A cure for diabetes
3. An e-mail telling me I've won the poetry contest I entered
4. A cure for bipolar disease
5. A month-long paid vacation
6. A nap
7. A pizza
8. A notification that Saint Marty has been named a Blog of Note
9. A notification that I have won the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry (or blogging)
10. A bigger house (three bedrooms, two baths at least)
11. A banana
12. A pound of plain M&Ms
13. An end to world hunger
14. A hot tub
15. A universal health care plan for everybody in the United States
16. A grilled cheese sandwich

Any of these things would validate the sense of expectation I've had all day.  I may be able to pull of numbers 11 and 16.  That's about it.  Therefore, I will have to lower my standards and accept whatever blessing comes my way.

At the moment, Saint Marty would settle for number 6, with a small pepperoni number 7 on the side.

Number 16.  Check.