Last night was one of those nights when I really could have used a Shoulder Angel like you see in cartoons. You know, the miniature angelic version of yourself that tells you when to stuff a sock in it, or that throwing yourself over the balcony really is the best thing for you to do right now if you insist on continuing to talk. Looking back now, I had every opportunity to shut my mouth and walk through that door...it was unlocked, I have working feet...there's no reason for me to have done otherwise. But I did. And now I'm mad at myself. And all for lack of that little Shoulder Angel. [On a side note, I'm now taking applications for the position. Holy robe and lyre preferred, but not required.]