Imagine a Woman...

PK and I had dinner together last night. Cheesecake Factory, yum. Discussed husbands, writing, fear of success that interfered with writing, general sense of being undeserving of the good life, how much we'd like to go on Starting Over or, failing that, find a life coach. Ordered cheesecake to go, wandered around Barnes and Noble. Picked up a book, Imagine a Woman in Love with Herself (Patricia Lynn Reilly). Opened it at random to the following:

Imagine a woman who follows her creative impulses.

A woman who produces original creations.

Who refuses to color inside someone else's lines.

PK snerled up her lip when I showed it to her. Still, it seemed like a sign, so she bought two copies, one for me. (I bought dinner.) Now I have to read it. Do the work. Crap.