My Holy Eight Ball Wish

Today, I looked in the mirror, and freaked out because I'm old.
Yeah.
I have gray hair.
A lot of it. I'm 22 years old and I have laugh lines.
More importantly, I'm 22 and I'm calling my wrinkles laugh lines.

There are a lot of things about myself that I'm starting to come to grips with.

Like how I think I may be a hypochondriac.
But only when I’m playing Frisbee.

Or how my head is always too hot, and my feet are always too cold.
Which "logically" results in my turning the heater on full blast with the window rolled down.
In the dead of winter. I don't even know why they bothered putting the little guy with an arrow pointed at his head in my car.

I'm obsessively compulsively disordered.....
In all walks of life.

Example: To Do lists. I don't function without them. And what's worse - I become compulsively ecstatic when I get to cross something off.
But you know, I was talking to Dana today, and I think I may have uncovered the most blasphemously inconvenient truth about myself that I've been secretly wishing could happen for a very long time:

I would like to have a sit down with God to discuss some current events or "non-events" in my life.

He has all the answers right? Can't He just pencil me in? Provide insight as to what point exactly I'll stop feeling like the new lead character in A Series of Unfortunate Events?
I mean, will I ever get married? Was it really fair that Murphy violated my right to a "no cat" existence? And why can't I find a job? Huh? Why'd I lose my job in the first place? Maybe He could even explain the whole presidential election thing to me...Really? John McCain and Barack Obama? Really?

I know what you're thinking. Why don't I just try a magic eight ball?
I did.
It wasn't helpful. I swear even the eight ball Gods are against me.