Memory Lane ~ Aug. 22/24

The other day when leaving my apartment, I saw a rock. Not just any old rock. A nice rock—like smooth. Right now some of you are nodding along and others are suspecting neurodivergence. However, I resisted the urge to pick it up. After all, I can’t pick up a big, dirty alley rock that’s probably covered in engine grease and worse. So I left it, feeling very proud of myself for my excellent impulse control. So much so that several days later, I was feeling like I deserved a little treat. Leaving the apartment again, I was privy to the horrifying experience of getting an old cigarette butt in my sandal. Now I really deserved a little treat.

Anyways, that’s the story of why I’m definitely neurotypical and also how I got this really good rock.

P.S. Don’t worry, I scrubbed the unholy shit out of it. I know you were wondering.

Until next time, travelers, Gael