So, I went for my well-patient check-up yesterday. For some reason my doctor has been insisting on those lately. I must have looked bad or sounded a bit at the end of my proverbial rope. He brought out a card for meditation.
I don't think this is the type of meditation Altar-Boy does (I still totally want to go, BTW.) This meditator (?) is a gynecologist by day. We'll be having classes in the Highlands, natch. The best part---I get my own mantra! I just can't wait to tell y'all about my mantra.
From now on when my secretary is singing "Five dollar footlong," throwing her stuffed howler monkey at people to hear him howl, or calling me, "Dibbsie," I can merely say, "Ohm," and go to a better place.
Peace is within.
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