My inbox often has all the grace of a cattle roundup. Or stampede.
I had this little jewel go galooping across my monitor one busy morning last year. As sometimes happens, I’d already clicked ‘DELETE’ before it registered.
Wait. What?
By that time I’d already branded that critter ” — NONE” and couldn’t find it. I made up my mind. Said, “Self? See it again, dab a loop on that puppy and we’ll check it out.”
Self dutifully came dragging it, so here it is. I could do some spiffing and embellishing here ‘n’ there, but I’d be more interested in your take.
After all, it’s mighty plain talk.
AUTOBIOGRAPHY IN FIVE SHORT CHAPTERS ================================================================
CHAPTER 1 I walk down the street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I fall in. I am lost… I am hopeless. It isn’t my fault. It takes forever to find a way out.
CHAPTER 2 I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I pretend I don’t see it. I fall in again. I can’t believe I am in the same place. But… it isn’t my fault.
CHAPTER 3 I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I see it is there. I still fall in. It’s a habit. My eyes are open. I know where I am. It is my fault. I get out immediately.
CHAPTER 4 I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I walk around it.
CHAPTER 5 I walk down another street.
By: Portia Nelson
==================================================
Welp? Whaddja think?
Dan