One of the problems with being devastatingly handsome, talented, and intelligent to the point of near clairvoyance is that you are rarely, if ever, wrong.
I say this, of course, a tad tongue-in-cheek…I’m actually extremely clairvoyant.
Nearly never being wrong means that there, indeed, was a reason for my feeling of foreboding all last week. I can’t (won’t?) go into details, but it involves broken dreams, a very limited future, and the last almost-six years of my life.
Also, puppies for some reason.