I have this pair of pants. They're old. I think they pre-date Wayne's death. I don't wear them, don't remember the last time I did. In fact, I was going to stick them in a bag for DI, but just didn't get around to it.
Yesterday I put them on. I do not know why. I must have decided not to care about how I looked. So I wore them all day.
But here's the fun part.
I found a ten-dollar bill in the pocket.
So I think this: I'll leave the money there, hang them up, and probably I'll forget about it. Then some long time from now I'll put them on and find the $10 again. And, of course, yippee!
But it's chancy. I may never put them on again.
Yes, this is my life. One must find pleasure where one can.
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