An Addictive Personality

The old man had an addictive personality.  He knew that about himself.  He knew that much.  Liked to think it meant you couldn’t get enough of him.

His wife told him he was wrong about that.  Doesn’t mean you are charismatic or attractive, she told him.  Means you have trouble controlling yourself.

He was always trying to prove her wrong.  And failing, falling flat on his face.  But always trying.  You could say he was addicted to trying.  He tried and he felt good and then the feeling would wear off.  So he would try again, searching for another hit of effort and self-restraint.  Crazy.

The old man woke up one morning and found a strange note next to his chair.  Written in pencil  In his own handwriting.    Note said: Had one of those days where I did everything right but then I ate too many chocolate chip cookies.  You are getting wound real tight if you are worried about too many cookies at midnight.

The old man had a hearing problem, she’d tell you that, too.  At least he thought that was what she said.  But this way is better, far funnier.  Just this morning, he’d heard on Fox News, “a Chinese beacon on the hill.”  Something Reagan supposed to have said.  And on another channel, the amazing scientific discovery – which Einstein had suggested a century ago, “nipples in space.”

Guess that means there really is an heaven, the old man thought.

Killing is like drinking for some and the old man knew he should maybe cut back on his drinking.

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