Anyone know where I can find a genie?

 Lately, I have been on a total Etta James, Billie Holiday, Patsy Cline, Ottis Redding, Ray Charles, Ella Fitzgerald and Zooey Deschanel kick..... which gives me the strongest urge to slow dance around my house, cry into my pillow, sing in the shower,and generally do any kind of task with a fluid and musical rhythm as if the artist is performing right in front of me for my own personal enjoyment.  If I am rolling out  a pie crust there is a rhythm to it, if I am stirring a pot on the stove I am doing it with flare and style, if I am curling my hair you can bet that about half way through, the curling iron has turned into a microphone and the pillows on my bed are a captivated audience.

 Now all this singing, dancing and generally living in a perpetual state of disillusion comes with a price. My head is often in the clouds day dreaming about some boy who will come in and sweep me off my feet at any moment. Which means that I am distracted from important tasks at all times. Occasionally reality breaks through and I realize I am single, in my mid- twenties ( insert sigh), working at a copy shop, all my friends are too attractive for their own good and I feel like I am the token funny girl (every group of friends has one) and in general my life is moving at a steady pace to nowhere. Now don't get me wrong, for the most part I love my life and don't have to many complaints and I realize that I am in control of my own destiny and if things aren't going the way I would like it is up to me to make the change. But sometimes I wish that I had a fairy god mother to make all my worries go away and put Prince Charming on my doorstep. I know that I ask too much. But honestly what woman doesn't? You mean I can't have my cake and eat it too?

  I know that my incoherent ramblings make no sense to anyone but me, so I apologize if it seems I jump all over the place. Actually scratch that I don't apologize.  An apology implies that I intend on rectifying the problem, and if I change that than I wouldn't be the same person. Perhaps I have read to much into my own psyche?