At my stage in life, I have experienced a gazillion weeks. I thought about actually counting how many weeks I have lived, but I don’t have that many fingers or toes. It doesn’t matter how many weeks it is. I have lived enough weeks to know, when you think you have experienced everything there is to experience, then another week shows itself. No matter how bad a week can be another week can always be worse. On the other side, no matter how good a week can be, another week can be better. I do have one complaint this week. Who was that knucklehead that invented the telephone? I would like to call him and give him a piece of my mind if I have any pieces left. (Does anybody write letters anymore?) Imagine how quiet my life would be if nobody could call me?
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