Only the Lonely
I did something the other day that reminded me that I really am lonely. Within us all there lies a dependency on companionship, that often lies hidden until our bodies subconsciously reveal them to us. I'm not proud of it, but a little while ago, I went to my local Zehr's grocery store and ordered the chicken and potato wedges snack pack. I was hungry and thought that I could handle the grease and the mess it would leave on my hands and in my stomach. A few minutes later, with only roughly half the meal ingested, I was throwing wedges out the window hoping to feed some wayward crow. I have sworn a million times before to stay away from this lethal combination of potato and chicken, but I fell again. It struck me as I drove down Huron Road, hoping that my discarded half-eaten chicken breast could perhaps provide more nourishment to a wandering red fox or even some domesticated canine, than they did to me, that this lapse in good sense could have been avoided. I realize my own weakness to forget things, even things I vowed to never forget. That is why I need my own personal companion, even if she only serves the purpose of making sure that I don't touch that forsaken chicken combo again. So the next time your companion nags you about something, think about me, my greasy fingers, and my considerably less than satisfied stomach, and thank the Lord for your own personal forsaken chicken combo avoider.

   [ posted by William @ 6:11 PM ]