Am I Desperate Yet?

I finally did read a few pages from my book on women's recovery.  I flipped it open and landed in a chapter discussing desperation.   A woman, in her third stint in prison, found herself along with the other inmates waiting for the bus to arrive carrying a new group of prisoners.  The inmates waved and cheered to welcome their friends back to the lockup.  The woman suddenly realized that she had no desire to hang out with her 'friends' in prison.  She was desperate to make a change in her life. 

Now, I'm not so desperate that I'll end up in prison.  At least I don't think I am.  But I did have a dream that I ended up on Clean House and Neicy Nash stood in my frontyard, neck high in piles of used books.  Or maybe I just don't want to admit how desperate to change I really am.  Did you notice I just flipped open the book and started reading somewhere in the middle?  Do you remember that I wanted to skip steps until I was reprimanded by those well versed in twelve step recovery?  God is working in my life but I'm just not desperate enough yet.  I'm still looking for the magic pill.

I want to read what's current, what everyone else is reading.  As a writer, I also want to be exposed to the talents of a variety of successful authors hoping one will hold the key to my own writing career.   I want to go back to the days when I never gave a second thought to how much money I spent in the bookstore.  I want things to be the same.  I want things to be different.  I want to be desperate.  Or do I? 

Where, oh, where is that magic pill?  I'm desperate to find it.