The Curse

 

I know me and I would not want to pack my own parachute.  I am one of those people who always has something go wrong.  No matter what I do, it makes no difference.  This Blog is a good example.  I can write something, read it over several times and once I’m happy with it, publish it here for all to see.  Then, I walk out into the other room, sit with a refreshing beverage and pick up my smart phone.  I’ll call up my Blog and as I start to read it, an unsightly spelling error, unshaven with its sweater miss-buttoned stands up and says, “Ha Ha, you missed me.”

It is my lot in life.  I’ve grown to realize that and have accepted that it is how my life is to be.  I can negotiate the perfect price on a car and be completely happy with my choice, drive it away, only to discover back in my driveway that one of the wheels is square instead of round.  Now how did I miss that?  So, the answer is NO!  I never want to pack mine or anyone’s parachute. 

I know of no cure for what I have.  I don’t even know if there is a name for it.  Restless Brain Syndrome, maybe.  What would you call an inability to spot the obvious?  Zobostic’s Curse?  Perhaps.  I’ve never seen a TV commercial showing little Zobostics in a cage, looking sad and hungry.  Please send just pennies a day to end this dreaded curse.  Just my luck, the person writing the commercial will type the wrong address and all the money will end up going to some worm farm in Indiana.

 Not that I have anything against worms.

 

 ZC