Have you ever had one of those nights that is almost perfect, but because there is one little thing missing or wrong it feels like the whole thing doesn't mean anything and you can't focus on the good because that one little piece isn't there?
No? I'm not making any sense because it's quarter to 1 in the morning?
OK. I'll go to bed. I just hope this is worth it.
*Obviously that poem is "Almost Perfect But Not Quite" from Where the Sidewalk Ends
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