Am I A Clown Now

Hey, it takes a lot of work to make such clowntastic posts. All right, hard work and help from a few "special" people. I know some of you miss me when I skip a day, although I do admire your ability to keep yourselves entertained. Fear not, for I am here, to continue the trend of body part themed posts...

Except I choose- my nose. Never really thought about it one way or another. I thought about Melissa's nose, when she broke it at age sixteen and they let me ride in the back of the ambulance. Thought about Jacko's nose- but we won't go there. But didn't stop to think about my drippy nose, in and of itself.

Until, of course, today. Today when I walked into an etagere of two-dollar trial sizes. Nose first. Bit unlike the normal walking-into-things I do five times a day, that. I immediately thought about my nose as the tears welled up in my right eye, thought about my nose as I tried to explain to Kathleen just how I managed to do that, thinking about my poor cute little bruised nose every time I sneeze or chew or yawn or breathe. Now, I can't stop thinking about my nose. Or is it that my nose can't stop thinking about me?