What I don't know for sure

I've decided that instead of writing what I know -- which is what we are told we must do -- I should write about what I don't know.

I'm almost certain that what I don't know is far more intriguing than what I do know. For instance, I know that you can fit four kids, one Christmas tree, and a week's worth of groceries into a Ford Taurus station wagon. I know that Spanx were invented by angels. I know that it takes longer to dry my hair than it does to dry a load of towels. I know that you can't shake a steaming thermos of hot chocolate with the cap screwed on tight. I know quite a lot of stuff.

But I don't know how to belly dance or what it's like to be a professional singer. I don't know what it feels like to walk a marathon or build a house (though I'm sure I could do that, with a little more time in at the gym.) I've never climbed a mountain or saved anyone from a burning building. I don't how to rob a bank or what it was like to live on a farm. What would it be like to live my days on the sea or drive a big rig across the countryside? I don't know!

So why, when given the opportunity to create something from nothing, would I write what I know? You know?