Tangled Up In Blue

If this is Eden, why is Eve disgruntled?

I need to stop mucking around with the Garden so much. Even with the dry grasses and dead flowers and weeds that make my skin blister on contact, it's perfect, anyway. Sometimes I think it's an affront to the Creator to try to change anything.

Instead, I should read a good novel, make something cool and arty and completely impractical. I should sing at the top of my lungs and scare the birds away with my off-key yowl. I should leap in the air and make Tanzer, the silly boy horse, dance. (He does, too! It makes me laugh, and then he'll dance some more.) Better yet, I should just strip off my dusty work clothes and dance. Right now.

Pharmaceuticals have their place, but I think I'll try the naked jungle boogie before I reach for the Prozac.