My ambitious friend Richard played the part of a tree-with-a-face in a local theatrical production of "Wizard of Oz." In 12 shows, he stood around holding a cardboard painting of a tree in front of himself. "With all the important things you have to do," I asked him, "with all the fun and challenging activities available to occupy your valuable time, why did you choose this dopey task?" With bemused languor he replied, "My life is too crammed with meaning, Robbie. I'm a Drama King, for God's sake -- a junkie for epic storylines. So for once in my life, I decided to do something that had absolutely no purpose. And it renewed me beyond my wildest imagining." I pray that you'll take a page from Richard's book in the coming days, dear Gemini.
Hear that everybody? I'm likely to get even less active for a bit.
That said: don't knock the tree with a face, dude. Even though that's not the sort of sacrilege that, say, knocking the flying monkeys would be. Mmm.... Monkeys.