Prelude

Another leaf is about to be turned over in my biological clock. It seems that I only get older but none the wiser. Tomorrow, once every year, I will be the most self-centered person alive. I deserve the right to be one once in a while. You are forewarned.

I seem to only get older, but never grown up even at the minutest bit. Everybody has their time, I say. I don't know when this time comes. It may come at the most incospicuous of times and places. With the rate that I am going, I may anticipate it in every corner, geared up for the pounce.

Although no body is ever ready.