Don't you know I dole out compliments, at most, once a year? And like a squirrel, you must gather up these acorns of kind words to sustain you for the upcoming cold, sarcastic months.
As I lie in bed each morning and ask myself why I should put both my feet on the floor, there are precious few reasons that I've ever come up with. The chance to escape Jordan's morning breath, sure. Scotch. It's too early to drink it, yes, but it is never too early to think about. And, of course, the everpresent possibility that I might finally happen upon Hugh Jackman and give him the present I've been holding for him. Bam!
I mean, you just can't. It's too much to ask yourself.
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