You Are Putting Me On.

I was cleaning the garage this afternoon. I was also thinking that I really needed some work gloves if I was going to make any kind of dent. I was all ready to run back into the house, pour myself a glass of lemonade, and admit defeat.

What could I do? My hands were tied. The only way I was going to do a good job was if I had some work gloves. No sense in doing just a so- so job. As soon as I had some gloves, by golly, I would tackle this place head on with avengence. And so on.

As I carried on in my head, I was feeling pretty good about abandoning ship. I had swept a little and hung the bikes up. Not bad. I needed gloves, that's all. I promised myself that I would return the minute I got some.

I am not sure if this kind of thing has been happening to me all of my life and it is only lately that I have been noticing it, but now it is just getting wacky. My thoughts are being attended to? Is that possible? As I went to turn off the light by the side door, get a load of what catches my eye.