I’m at the point in life when I can just say “dang these middle age hormones!” Am I finding the true root of otherwise inexplicable moods? Maybe; maybe not, but at least I’m not beating myself up or compounding the misery.
I thought he took his laundry to her. I seem to remember a passage in the book where he went into town to bring in his laundry and catch up on gossip. . . 4 or 5 paragraphs after a diatribe about the evils of gossip and those who spread it . . .
Seal’s “Kiss From a Rose”