Thank You For Not Hitting Me With A Bus

I made it! Loyal readers of The One-Thousand may recall that one year ago I wrote a fearful post on the occasion of my Thirty-Eighth birthday, begging one and all not to hit me with a bus. When I was a teenager my friends and I had a weird running joke that I would die at Thirty-Eight years of age. And the cause of death? Being hit by a bus. I don't believe in the supernatural, but I do believe in the freaky power of the human mind and I was always concerned that my Id might get a kick out of throwing itself and the rest of me in front of a bus just for the thrill of a self-fulfilling prophecy. Well, here's to you Super-Ego, for keeping that bastard Id in check once more. Now that I'm past that hurdle, I'll never have to worry about dying again!

Oh, yeah, and Happy Birthday to me.