I had a moment of abject humaness yesterday as I backed out of a parking place only to encounter a solid object in my path. It was, unfortunately, another vehicle, one which had previously been invisible to me. I left a nice little crimp in its bumper. Several expletives came to mind. On the other hand, my bumper was barely scratched. That was good. Usually, it is my car I manage to crumple up. There was no one around, and did it come to mind to just drive away? Yeah, it did. I am not all that well yet, you know. And I did the noble, character-building, honest thing and left my card under the windshield wiper, confessing my booboo. And so far, no one has called me. Is that strange or what? And my conscience is now berating me for not waiting around longer. So I had a plethora of guilt-laced dreams, where I was always in the wrong, and always trying to slither away without anyone noticing. I just wrote an amends letter to myself, you know, where I promised my self that I would treat her kindly and with compassion that I would show to a beloved child. So, I am not telling her how stupid she is. That in itself is an improvement. And, without these little moments of venality, how would one ever get character, anyway?
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