But Mouse, you are not alone,
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best laid schemes of mice and men
Go often askew,
And leave us nothing but grief and pain,
For promised joy!

Still you are blessed, compared with me!
The present only touches you:
But oh! I backward cast my eye,
On prospects dreary!
And forward, though I cannot see,
I guess and fear!

I really wish I could forget you.  If there was a way to get brain surgery
to cut every memory of you out of my head, I would do it.  But unfortunately
no surgeons with a medical license in the US will do anything like that,
because obviously it tends to also remove things like breathing and sight.
I keep waiting for a person to come back that doesn't exist anymore.  I keep
replaying the best years of my life in my head, thinking it will make up for
how bad these years of my life are now.  Of course it doesn't, any more than
playing VHS tapes of someone long does anything to bring them back.

I drove Jack and Joan to the Quad Cities on Friday.  Jack is almost completely
impossible to deal with these days, since his only joy in life is derived from
arguing about the dumbest things.  I don't enjoy arguing very much.  We went
to that dumb casino, that of course brought back memories of when you and I
went there with them.  The food is terrible and the people and atmosphere
annoying.  But I don't have anything else in the world to do, really.  Just
sitting in the house doesn't make me feel any better.  Getting out of the house
to a place like that is only marginally better.

Oh well, you know all of this stuff already.  I've told you a thousand times.
Have a good day, as usual.