I screwed up my childhood. I realized this the other night on my way home from work. I was little miss goody-two-shoes, religious, well-behaved, (sorta), not into smoking or drinking or drugs or even chewing gum in class.
And I started thinking about... Keith Richards. And Steve Tyler. And Mick Jagger.
I could handle the ugly bit. Really. But I should have gone wild and drunk like a fish, got addicted to heroin and all that...
Healthy as horses, the lot of them, and here's me with the wonky ticker and the spazzed out knee and bad back. Bah. So much for the rewards of a life well led.
Tying a string around your finger works, but only if you can remember why the string is THERE. I've got a little ring of paper around my pinky finger, with the word "BROOM" written on it - because I need to remember to buy a broom. My old broom has become nasty in the extreme and all the straw bits are raggedy and sticking out at strange angles. Harry Potter would be appalled at it. So I need to get a new one, but I have forgotten to buy one on the way home from work for the last week, so today I think I will remember - the paper ring is TRES annoying.
So tomorrow is the picnic. I need to see if I can find some "won't sink into the mud" shoes to wear. Remember to pack my umbrella. And bug spray.