Letter of resignation.

Taken from an E-mail, author unknown:

I am hereby tendering my resignation as an adult. I have decided I would like to accept the responsibilities of an eight-year-old again.

I want to go to McDonald's and think it's a four star restaraunt.

I want to sail sticks across mud puddles and make ripples with rocks.

I want to think M&M's are better than money because you can eat them.

I want to lie under a big oak tree and run a lemonade stand with my friends on a hot Summer's day.

I want to return to a time when life was simple. When all you knew were colours, multiplication tables, and nursery rhymes, but that didn't bother you, because you didn't know what you didn't know and you didn't care. All you knew was to be happy because you were blissfully unaware of all the things that should make you worried ar upset.

I want to think the world is fair and that everyone is honest and good. I want to believe that anything is possible.

I want to be oblivious to the complexities of life and be overly excited by the little things again.

I want to live simple again. I don't want my day to consist of computer crashes, mountains of paperwork, depressing news, how to survive more days in the month than there is money in the bank, doctor's bills, gossip, illness, and loss of loved ones. I want to believe in the power of smiles, hugs, a kind word, truth, justice, peace, dreams, the imagination, mankind, and making angels in the snow.

So here's my chequebook and my car keys, my credit card bills and my tax statements. I am officially resigning from adulthood. And if you want to discuss this further, you'll have to catch me first, 'cause, "Tag! You're it!"

More thoughts on this to come ...