Well, contrary to the way it happened back when I was at camp, when I fell off, in my sleep, from the top of my bunkbed, I fell horizontally into the corner of my garage at home. It was an unusually wonderful day when down on the ground I spied a little lepracaun sitting on a toad stool. He said, “Don’t mind me, bub, but if I were you I’d watch out for that railroad tie that you’re heading straight for.” Being much too concerned that this had to be a figment of my imagination, I shrugged it off. With that he turned his nose upward, folded his arms across his chest and thought, “What an idiot.” He said to his chagrin. “Well, to each his own daily dose of suffering, I suppose.” Then, he sat still and relaxed on his toadstool fully intent upon watching me as if it replaced those cute little river dancing Irish girls he’s often get a look at through a peep hole of the barn every saturday night. Then, I kept walking, tripped over the railroad tie and glided head on into a destructive fate-induced reality. Man it hurt. And then Dawn took me to the ER where I waited for three hours while I resisted the pain in the waiting room, gave my name, rank and serial number to the medical records technician and sat on the gurney endlessly until they had the sense enough to give me the right pain killer that would help ease the pain.
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