FAST FOOD FOR THE DISAFFECTED SOUL

Subsisting on a diet of greasy hamburgers and sugary sodas won't get you healthy, but it will keep you alive 'til the next day. So it is with false hope -- it's a poor substitute for contentedness, but it keeps you going.

The next stage of my life looks like it will be completely devoid of the wholesome, farm-fresh optimisim that cultivates mental, emotional and spiritual health. Instead, I'll gorge on the indulgent, impossible dreams of a future romance that hinges upon someone who may never accept me as hers. A year ago today, I would have said that what has conspired already was wholly impossible, so there is a slight chance that this circumstance will change, even though the odds are clearly stacked against me.

If I can fill my schedule with the rigors of academia and the demands of a part-time reporting job at a daily newspaper, I may be able to sufficiently distract myself from the curse that ails me. I'll pray, wish and hope for an opportnity to chase happiness, but with any luck, I won't obsess about it constantly as I've done for the past three weeks.

I've also decided that several times a month, on a lark, I will apply for a job for which I am ridiculously underqualified, such as religion reporter for The Tennesean in Nashville or political correspondent for the Washington Post. I'm not expecting a job offer, but if one of America's premiere dailies is willing to take a chance on me, perhaps my dismal future will brighten.

Who knows? And, more practically, who cares?