Friday, December 26, 2003

So I was heading out the door for another affirmation jog around the block today, cast off a departing comment over my shoulder, must have blinked. Walked into the edge of the door. Ouch! Punched in the nose, tiny 1/8-inch cut. Spot of blood. No big deal. But, dang! How often do you do that? Like, for me, never. And it was the left foot that was out front, and the left arm that had hold of the door handle. Is this the fault of the Mystery Condition? Or just stress? Narcissism? Hypochondira? Did anyone see the movie Brazil? I feel like that lady who has the facelift meltdown. Am I just imagining things? Why do I have so many typos (which you don't see because I have corrected them)? Did anyone else read Flowers for Algernon? Just subtract out the genius part and is that going to me be? The answer must be: No, Mr. Hell, you are just imagining things. You had a rough week. Anybody can walk into a door.
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