Official RESIGNATION
I am hereby officially tendering my resignation as an adult. I have 
decided I would like to accept the responsibilities of an 8 year-old 
again. I want to go to McDonald's and think that it is a four star 
restaurant. I want to sail sticks across a fresh mud puddle and make 
a sidewalk 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 summers day. I want to 
return to a time when life was simple-when all you knew were colors, 
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 or upset.  
I want to think the world is fair. 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 o! verly excited by the little 
things again. I want to live simple again. I don't want my day to 
consist of computer crashes, political egos, mountains of paperwork,
useless make-work-projects, depressing news, how to survive more days 
in the month than there is money in the bank, gossip, illness, and 
the 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 is my checkbook and 
my car-keys, my credit card bills and my RRSP 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."