I'm writing this for you. Yeah--you. You know who you are. You're the one I looked at and said "My God, what happened to you -- you're all bruised!" "Oh that," you replied, "that was just Life." "Life has been kicking you around that badly?" I asked. "No," you said, "Life only kicked me once." "Then where did all the other bruises come from?" "Those?" you said. "Those are all me -- I've been kicking myself ever since." To which I can only say: read the cartoon below.
I'm also writing this for you. Yeah--you. You know who you are. You're the one who keeps wondering why there's always an obstacle in front of you, something you can't walk around -- a boulder, a hole, a fence of barbed wire. It never fails to make you feel like you're wasting your time, or make you raise your arms to heaven and yell "Why does this keep happening to me?" at the top of your lungs. To which I can only say: save the cartoon, print it out, and put it on your refrigerator.
I'm also writing this for you. Yeah--you. You know who you are. You're the woman in this cartoon: