Faux Bee-Yah’s


Yep, We’ve All Got One Or Two We’re Harboring

Claustrophobia I Can Do Without: I Once Thought I Was Claustrophobic. This Silly Charade Lasted Three Or Four Decades.

It Turned Out I Didn’t Like My Own Company – Self Diagnosis Gone Way Wrong – Obviously, I Get Along Splendidly With Myself Now.

“So, Am I Really Afraid Of Enclosed Spaces?”


That I Need To Write About It – More Irksome In The Under Carriage – Than Freak-Me-Flat-Outish.

Also, It’s Not Something I’d Ever Include On My Curriculum Vitae.

Or Brag About In A Blog.

“Perhaps, A Podcast – You’ll See – Though It’s Not Going To Be All About Me.”


I Successfully Gestated In A Womb For 3 Full Seasons …

With Nothing Much To Do, But Bide My Time Suspended In Perpetual Day Dreams And A Placenta Buffet – And Didn’t That Work Out Remarkably Well? – Once I Hatched.

“Alright, I Don’t Like Dancing-At-Heights – I Prefer Loitering On Terre Firma – My Pretty Toes Planted Firmly On The Ground.”

But, Fear? C’Mon, Now.

OH, ME … OH, MY …

I’m Dreadfully Fearful Of Stupid Though …

Being Selectively Dumb Isn’t My Thing – Or, Blissfully Ignorant – Not A Wise Life Strategy.

“Why In Tarnation-To-Betsy-&-Eugene Would Any Fool Wish To Play Dumb When Being Smart Is Within Reach?”

That Doesn’t Mean I’m Not Open To Trying It Again – Just Not Today – Because Monday’s & Stupid Don’t Mix.

Photo by Everton Nobrega from Pexels

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