Wetsock

At any rate, I really didn’t expect it to plague me this way. I’m trying to overcome, and go on with my day. My left brain keeps scolding, “you’re so immature” I want to believe that, but I’m not so sure. I pray for deliverance of this burden I bear it’s almost absurd that I’m caught in this snare. I feel so moronic, where do I begin? Well, my sock’s soaking wet and it clings to my skin. I sat down to dinner, and while saying my prayer, I never spotted the ice cube that was under my chair.