Speaking of Billy Joel
The other day when I was enjoying fine wine, even better Mozart and generally feeling quite good about being as ideal, spiritually and otherwise, as I may ever get in my life, I suddenly got hit by something. It bent me in half, spun my head and started suffocating me*. Just before it was going to kill me, it seemed, I managed to utter a mental whine "I want perfection - or I'll die."
*I must moderate my verbs and adjectives, or I'll start coming across as some metaphysical diva, or hypochondriac, prone to slightly too regular eschatological fits.
