It's going to sleet tomorrow night. So they say.
It changes every day, this forecast. Why? Why?
Can't tell what's going to happen. Forecast - a funny word. Sleet maybe.
Snow maybe. My forecast: stupidity, 100% chance. I think often of stupid things I've said over the years. I end up shaking my head, hard, side to side, trying to fling the memories out through my ears or nostrils, but it never works. They don't leave. Go away, please. No, they won't.
I say to myself, "I'm going to think more carefully before I speak." Maybe I won't say stupid things anymore, but alas, I always do.
I'm trying right now to think of one of those stupid things I've said, and I can't. Isn't that a trip? When I want to think of them, I can't, but they barge in unexpectedly at odd times, and I can't get them out of my head. I think of how I have hurt people by saying stupid things, or how have said things in worship services that I didn't really think through, or how I say things to people trying to sound smart, and end up sounding really dumb. Just like now. I'm sure this sounds dumb.
So I'm pausing to think. Don't say something else stupid, please. Please, please, please.