Okay, it’s weird to admit this. But there’s an element of living in Africa, being a missionary and all that (or “working in development,” depending on your angle), which if dropped casually in the right circles, instantly hands one to a crumb of celebrity status. And it was really a cool job, y’know? And it made me really…happy. But I did a lot of exceedingly normal things over there. I shopped for a lot of groceries. Disciplined/schooled a lot of kids (well. Mine, anyway). I slept for about one-third of the time.

But can I be honest for a minute?