I Used to Be Smart.

I didn’t do much last Friday.

I woke up later than I should have.

I cooked breakfast—eggs, toast. Like usual.

I fried some potatoes for lunch. They were quite good.

I read for several hours, and then I went to work.

And it was good. Quite good. I didn’t do much. I didn’t worry about much. I kept peace with the things around me, and I came home tired with full pockets.

Can anyone ask for anything more?

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