Chagrin From the Past

I was horrified, recently, by the idea that a good deal of the people I went to high school with probably think I attempted suicide during my freshman year of high school.

Yipes!

They’d have thought this because of the big bandage on my left wrist, which covered two deep cuts on the inside surface. This damage, I assure you, was entirely accidental. It had more to do with cheap plate glass and less to do with me or despair. Of course, I had high school angst. I never seriously thought about suicide, though. I was way too busy trying to be a gallant romantic hero to any number of desirable sixteen year-old girls.

So, if you are reading this and you happen to have known me back then, let me say this: I am not now, nor have I ever been, a member of the suicidal party.

Phew. Glad that’s cleared up!