As I pray to Hermes, the god of travel, messengers, trade, thievery, cunning wiles, language, writing, diplomacy, athletics and animal husbandry; it occurs to me that I cannot sleep. As Hermes seems to be one of the busier gods, I turn to Hypno, the god of sleep and before I know it, I sleep. Without a purpose; without a burning, passionate desire, we are merely blind sheep following the herd of blind sheep who cannot see what is before their very eyes. While some meander aimlessly, like aimless meanderers, some wear their calling on their sleeve or car, as the case may be:
