Sometimes Things Don't Work Out

So, I spent a good portion of the morning writing something that I thought you’d enjoy. It concerned a pal, but it was funny and sort of sweet, and I had written a couple of deliciously wicked metaphors about someone who had spitefully and needlessly wronged him.

Then I showed it to my pal, who asked me not to post it.

Well, fine, but now I have nothing for you guys to read.

I had had a plan.

It did not work out.

Dammitall.

Then I got this from Rick at Brutally Honest, and it made me laugh:

Ah, well. My morning’s work is shot. I have appointments this afternoon and a turn at my volunteer gig tonight, so this may end up a very unproductive day. And you all know that as I hate compulsory socialism and love the voluntary kind, I also hate forced unproductive days, almost as much as I love my retreats.

We must be philosophers, then! I do not resent my pal putting the kabosh on my piece. Resentment, after all, is like taking poison and waiting for the other guy to die.