How many times had he told himself, nay, vehemently warned himself not to go ‘there?’ Millions? Billions? And yet, he goes…there.

Almost always.

There.

Despite some of his very best arguments, there he goes.

Each time it defies his own logic, very frequently leaving him dumbstruck at the moment of departure. For while the immediate payoff of ‘going there’ was often a meaty, if not mildy guilt laden gratification, he often discounted the memories of others and their ability to rehash his frequent trips to ‘there’ at times when it is less than convenient.

It’s not their fault. He goes ‘there’ a lot. It’s as if, at the critical moment when he has firmly decided NOT to go there, a tiny Leroy Jenkins pops into his head and slops the agenda. He is then left to clean up the mess, with the words of tiny Alice echoing in his head, “But that’s just the trouble with me. I give myself very good advice, but I very seldom follow it.”