Everything is serene.
One roomie is in his room watching Wonder Woman episodes on his laptop.
The other is snoring loudly in front of the TV in a darkened living room.
I am sitting here, listening to tunes and thinking about things.
A week or so ago, I had an odd conversation with a friend.
She told me everything wasn't always about me.
I probably deserved it. I think I had just told her that there was an ongoing theme in my romantic life. It went sort of like this:
I fall for women who, through no fault of their own, end up kicking me in the junk.
And I have women fall for me who, through no fault of their own, I end up kicking in the junk.
Simple.
Well, to be honest, my leg is getting tired and my junk need a nice relaxing vacation.
It isn't all about me, but this work in progress needs to start making a little more sense.
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