I wish I was poetic. I wish I was prophetic. I wish I was a good philosopher, philanthropist or
I suppose I have some other talents like awkwardly peddling down the street with a metal lock banging against my shin. I got that cut off my bike yesterday after convincing the locksmith I didn't steal the bike; my friend whom I bought it from simply couldn't find the key. After all, if I stole it, it would have been most likely hooked to something necessitating me cutting it off myself. Why do I feel compelled to defend myself even when I'm not accused of anything? That is something I would really like to change- thinking everyone thinks I am guilty of some far-fetched delusion I created in my own head.
At this yard sale I have coming up I am going to sell my old but so lovable Olympus film camera. I never, ever thought I would give up film for digital. As much as I hate computers the day has finally come that I don't see ever using that camera again. I still have the box, owner's manual, etc. I have some 'antique' Shiny-Brite Christmas ornaments I bought as an investment (impulse) several years ago. I am hoping to break even at $5 a box. No one will pay that at a yard sale, huh?
1 comment:
For some reason, Susan, I'm sitting her laughing...about the "feeling guilty for nothing" thing AND selling the film camera. Sigh. We have more in common than you think.
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