I think the trials and tribulations of my past, I think having to repeat the third grade three times at the 'School of Hard Knocks' has conditioned me like Pavlov's Dog. You see, I continue to feel like I am standing in a rain storm, and all the drops are good things, happy things ( I know that I now simply have the ability to see, sense, smell the goodness that was there all along, I'm attempting to be literary here ). While I'm getting soaked, I keep waiting for the "Other Shoe to Drop". But it continues not to.
(I found this daft from some months ago. I like it, so I am posting it)