It started out innocently enough. I began to think at parties now and then — just to loosen up.
That was when things began to sour at home. One evening I had turned off the TV and asked my wife about the meaning of life.
That’s a faulty syllogism,” I said impatiently. She exploded in tears of rage and frustration, but I was in no mood to deal with the emotional drama.
I headed for the library, in the mood for some Nietzsche. I roared into the parking lot with NPR on the radio and ran up to the big glass doors… They didn’t open. The library was closed.
You probably recognize that line. It comes from the standard Thinkers Anonymous poster. Which is why I am what I am today: a recovering thinker.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized on March 22, 2006 by John.