I feel like a sham virgin who is confessing to her priest that the same man has just raped her for the sixteenth time. I can’t help it. I’m in love again. Life is good. Jody and I are together again in every conceivable meaning of the word. I’m feeling my oats.
Don’t tell me I don’t know how to live life to the fullest. I know my main job is to fulfill my promise and spread the word of kindness and caring, but all work and no play was obviously making me a bore. Jody and I need a little R & R and will have to learn to pace ourselves. This walking across the country is starting to take a toll on us, to say nothing about what it is doing to our feet. We need a home of our own.
“We have a responsibility to ourselves,” I said to Jody. She of course agreed.
“I’ve come up with the bright idea to buy a luxury mobile camper. This way we can have our own home again, and continue touring the country to spread the word at the same time.” Sometimes I can’t believe how brilliant I am.
“Sounds good to me darling,” Jody said. “I’m ready to have my own home again. I’d love that.”
That’s all I had to hear. I used part of the donations I was constantly raising for one good cause or another like the Pineys to finance our expenditures, and we painted a sign on the side of our new mobile home that read, “Clasped Hands,” with a pair of multi colored clasped hands painted right under the letters to signify the new Society of Clasped Hands that I had just formed.
It was fun. I drove the camper, and Jody cooked and cleaned. Jody thought we were playing house just like a couple of kids and I was all too happy to go along. I always loved playing house and doctor and nurse. You get my drift, but I soon discovered we weren’t kids any more. It’s my damn genes. They are aggressing again and causing me to age at an unbelievable rate. Oops, I’m now the physical equivalent of a man in his fifties even though I am only thirty. Where the hell has the time gone?
With a feeling of foreboding I looked at myself in the full-length mirror on our closet door in the camper. I’m losing my hair and what remains of it is turning grey. To make matters worse I’ve developed a paunch, probably from all the fast food meals Jody and I were eating on the road. Me with a paunch, I used to be a stud. What happened to my ripped muscles? I think Jody noticed, but she didn’t say anything. I guess you can’t easily tell a Prophet he is getting old and fat, but I have eyes. I can see for myself. This is disgusting. I have to shape up.