I was at my desk, probably sorting through some color approval swatches when my former boss came in, clutching a tissue, red rimmed eyes. I couldn't ignore it so I asked, "What happened?"

She was on the subway and a dapper man stepped on, pretty blond 7yr.old daughter in tow. The little girl sat down next to her and dozed off, resting a headful of perfect ringlets against her shoulder. That was all it took.

RA doesn't have children. She wanted them at some point in time but had long shuttered those thoughts, a child didn't fit into her husband's life plan.

This memory came back to me today while I was having a candid discussion about an ad I found searching for egg donors.

"Don't do it. You're going to want your eggs one day."

"It's not like they take all of them."

"No."

"I don't think it's so horrible. There are people who need eggs. I have eggs, I am certainly not using them and they do go bad after a while. It's a nice thing to do."

"No."

"Why not? People want eggs, I have eggs. People have money, I want money. Don't you think we could use money?"

"NO. One day, you are going to be walking down the street and you will see a little kid who looks like you and you are going to wonder."

"Well, geez., at least my genes would be out there somehow."

Aside from adding new level to Darwinism (hey, if you can't have children yourself...), the thought of it certainly gives me pause. I think I'd have to make it possible for my eggs to find me again if I made the decision to put them out in the world for someone else to claim. Is that just too heartbreaking to consider?

Growing up, people saw me and always thought I'd be one of the first to be eliminated, right out of the chute. And I think when I was younger, I bought into the mythology, that if you were pretty you would be chosen. But somehow I defied all odds and have remained solidly on the wrong side of the line, one of the last to be picked for a team.

Perhaps my problem is that I never made it a priority. That in my youth I blanched at the thought of leading a traditional life. That I never set any sort of parameters for myself.

But now so many things have turned.

There was a time when fear alone kept my feet firmly bolted to New York City. I was always afraid that if I left, I'd somehow be giving up irreplaceable opportunity. But now, I think I could leave. I think I could leave and it would be... OK.

I've experienced bursts of a life where someone else is more important than myself, but never did I allow it to overtake my reality. I always returned to my space and I never thought twice-- believing that preserving my autonomy would ultimately lead to a coexistence where everyone was equally important.

When I look at those times now I see how my current existence carries no more significance for me. I wonder now, have I been inadvertently resisting the meaning of love?

I think I would be OK if I stopped being the top priority in my life.

Dear Universe,

Once again, I am sorry for yelling at you. Thank you for helping me with that little issue.
I know that for the Universe, time is a non-issue. For us humans though, we are a little more anxious, I hope you understand.

-Me

Dear Universe,
I am sorry I yelled at you.
Thank you for sending me Jamie....