What Wonder Woman Means to Me ... And About Me

So the other day, after getting my eyes checked (I'm increasingly gray-haired, but years away from bifocals, thanks!), I stopped by the local Rite Aid to see if they had any NASCAR cars. They didn't. But they did have a 10-inch Wonder Woman action figure. She's the new, old-school version ... animated, but in a retro/deco style. And I bought it, which was reminiscent of the old-school me. And when I told Cheryl about it a couple days later, her first thought was to ask me if I was unhappy with my life. At first, I was taken aback, but then I realized that when she last new me I surrounded myself with totems of female empowerment as ... what? Escape? A source of strength? A distraction? (Well, that was true when it came to the obsessive collecting component).

Now, however ... well, once again I am impressed with Cheryl's insight. I'm definitely feeling some stress right now on the work front (big changes a'coming) and on the home front (we're thinking about a remodel) and it would certainly be helpful to be superhuman. But for the record, I am not unhappy. I'm just ... daunted. Which is where my my girl Diana comes in (that's Wonder Woman's real name).