As I get older, I like the cold less and less-- I used to love it, but now it makes my knee ache and my body stiff-- but because it was unseasonably warm today and our school building's heating system is ancient and defective, the English Office was HOT . . . roasting hot, hot enough that we were sweating while eating lunch-- and thusly I remembered that I don't like the heat either . . . I'm only happy when the temperature is just right.
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I personally discovered in the early 2000’s that my friend Dave’s mental age is 91. Different than anyone I knew, he is weird and out there and blurtsome yet wise and comfortable in himself. He isn’t afraid to just be him. Which is weird. But there’s an affability that most folks feel. They sure as shit wouldn’t want to be his full time caretaker, I mean dear lord. But hanging with Dave is always fun and not what you get from people with mental ages 5 through 75.
I can tell you that it was a relief and a great advantage to dealing with Dave once I made this determination.
Now, later on, Dave’s physical is catching up very, very quickly to his mental, and his mental is exhibiting itself more strongly than ever. Stay tuned, people.
blurtsome
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