In the shower, attempting to shave your legs, which are spotted liberally with the obligatory summertime mosquito-bite and chigger scabs, while wearing no corrective lenses (provided your sight is as craptastic as mine). Woo-wee. Slow and steady wins the race, I’ve found.
Perhaps in another life, I might have been a Nature Queen, scaling mountains alongside my possee of friendly wolves and raccoons, sleeping on pallets of donated feathers from benevolent geese, nestled up in the crook of an overprotective bear’s neck while jungle monkeys gathered nuts and berries for me. Hey, it could have happened. In a magical forest. Instead, nature and I, we don’t really get along all that well. You see, I am a…
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