I am not Jennifer Roche, the accomplished math professor at the University of Virginia.
Nor, do I create colorful tiles in St. Augustine, Florida.
I don't write brainy articles about antipsychotics in geriatric psychiatry.
I did not play on a winning Pony League softball team in upstate New York.
I have never run 43 minute 4-Milers with the Charlottesville Track Club.
My husband's name is not David.
I am not the person who writes papers in Catholic studies like "Did William Shakespeare Die a Papist?"
I have never been an assistant county attorney.
I am not an experienced web developer living in Connecticut.
I did not purchase a home in the Philadelpia area for $113,300,
nor do I have a son named Jayden Alexander.
I am not the first-grader, who won Student of the Month, from Kenwood K-8 Center in Miami-Dade County, Florida.
I have never been a curator.
But, once, a long time ago, when I lived in the Toledo, Ohio suburbs, I dreamt of being one.