By now you might be wondering if my last post was prophetic.

It wasn’t.

I’m right here.  Underneath the piles of books and papers.  If anyone is going to do me in, it is my professors.  And they will do it even more slowly and torturously  than a serial killer.  They probably enjoy it more, too.  There is a positive side to this, of course.  As many papers as they assign, they have to grade.

It’s probably the equivalent of choosing where to bury the bodies…

I was thinking [insert joke here if you must] on the way home: Do you ever wonder how many near misses you’ve had with death?

I’m not talking about the things you know about, like car accidents, etc.  I’m talking about the sort of thing you see in movies, where somebody behind the scenes saves the school/town/city/state/country/world/whatever without any of us being the wiser.  Perhaps you crossed paths with a serial killer and caught his/her eye, but by some random chance you were saved and never even knew how close you came to dying.  Or maybe a coworker (or their ex) was about to wig out and go on a killing spree, but then saw a cute and fuzzy bunny on the way to buy a gun, thereby diffusing the situation as the would-be perpetrator skips happily home with a new pet.  Or dinner.

Are you wondering now?