I think it's a fact of life that we'll always want what someone else has.

It's human nature to want more, to want better, to want that. It's interesting how it happens even when you know you could never be like that, do that job, live that way. This is vague, I know. But here's where I'm coming from:

� A good high school friend just e-mailed us with some news. She's down in Texas, where her husband works for a hospital. It's part of his medical training. If ER has taught me anything, it's that this is called "residency." Anyway, Amy's pregnant, and while I have no desire to have that coming to me this Christmas, just the thought of the two of them taking this step in their lives is heartwarming.

� One of my best friends, who lives probably no more than three miles away as that damn crow flies (but I don't, unfortunately, and there is a river between us), is busy the next few weeks. He's in Boston right now, spending Memorial Day on Nantucket (while I'll be in Hyannis, only miles from the ferry that will take him there), and then will be attending his five-year reunion at Boston College the first weekend in June. That's also the weekend of my reunion, but I have no desire to go. I see my best friends from college, and I'll be at a wedding the weekend after the reunion at which I'll see many of my classmates � who also won't be at the wedding. I have no reason, no desire to go to my reunion, but for some reason, I'm slightly envious of Will going to his.

� Heather gets to write for TV and live in LA and spend a month in Europe this summer. But she also faces the spectre of unemployment regularly � such is life in television � and doesn't have renters' insurance.

� Even at work, I'm surrounded by people with jobs I'd like. I want to write again, and I read stories as I'm checking them and think, "I could have done much better with this." But then I remember that I don't want to write here. I don't have the tabloid instinct to think it's a big deal when Jennifer Aniston doesn't thank Brad Pitt at the Golden Globes.

� I want to cover baseball, to travel the country, to get to know the players. But I certainly don't want to be back at my old employer, nor do I want to be one of the lame sportswriters who laugh at the dumbest of jokes Derek Jeter makes because � gasp � he's DEREK JETER! He's a god! I don't want to be a lemming.

� I love the idea of being a teacher. My parents are teachers. I'd love to have summers off, to know I'm getting holidays off, to have a week between Christmas and New Year's. I'd like the idea of getting out at 3 p.m., of maybe coaching a team in the spring or fall. But I know I couldn't do it. It's not the money � from where I sit, many teachers make more than I do � but it's the discipline. I'd like to play an important part in a child's life, to take the job seriously and teach life's lessons. But I don't know if I could push myself enough to do the job needed to mold today's youth. I don't know if I'd have the patience to deal with punk kids and overzealous parents who believe their children should be handed everything in life.

That's about it. Kinda heavy for a late Friday entry, huh?