Nun of your business.

There was a time when I thought about “joining the call.” This does not mean I wanted to become a call girl; although, there was a time when that appealed to me, too. What I am referring to is quite the opposite, really. Sometimes I think God is calling me to be a Nun. I’ll give you a moment to get over the shock and wipe up the beverage you just blew out your nose. I know it sounds strange coming from me of all people, but it’s true. In fact, there was a time I considered it pretty seriously. I mean, why else would I be so unlucky in love and lack the desire to grow a human inside my midsection because I think human gestation is the creepiest thing ever. I always snap out of it after a few days, eventually coming to grips with the major fundamental issues I have with the whole affair. There is the whole poverty, chastity, and obedience thing, not to mention the major hang-up of never being able to heighten my status to Priest, Cardinal, or Bishop. I could go on, but I won’t. You would think someone who contemplated the Cloth would live a much more Holy life – but you would be wrong, bitch.