I know it’s bad – almost evil. I’ve kept this embarrassing secret for months. I can’t help myself. After a lifetime of courageously fighting the temptation, I’ve fallen prey to this loathsome habit.
Many years ago, my mother, Irene, warned me of the evils of such behavior. While in college, upperclassmen preached that giving in to such desire would cause serious consequences. Several of my bosses, over a number of industries, warned me this was a fireable offense.
One late night, a police officer pulled me over and asked if I was considering doing this dangerous act. I played innocent.
In the last few months, I have invented stories at work so I can sneak out the back door, hoping no one will notice my absence. But I can’t take the secrecy anymore. I must tell the truth.
I go home.
I close the bedroom door.
And I take a nap.
Ahh!