Last night I had a weird and vivid dream: I woke up determined to change my profile picture from my 7-year-old self to a squirrel. Even at 61, I resemble a second-grader more than I do a rodent, so the identification with squirreldom was a little puzzling. Perhaps the desire for the switch was a reflection that my pace is a whole lot quicker and more impulsive than that of my parents, with whom I’ve been spending the past week. But given the minuscule degree of patience I’m endowed with, a flea would have been a better choice.
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