Do I Exaggerate? Boy, Do I, And

Einstein Wrote That Insanity Is Doing The Same Thing Over And Over And Expecting A Different Result. That Said, Is It Crazier To Repeatedly Throw Yourself Against A Window, Or To Repeatedly Open That Window, Believing The Creatures That Are Throwing Themselves Against It Might Come Into Your House, Take A Look Around, And Leave With No Hard Feelings?

Also, I Used To Think That One Day I Might Get Someone To Iron My Shirts, But The Truth Is I Really Like Doing Them Myself.

Like Any Normal Fifth Grader, I Preferred My Villains To Be Evil And Stay That Way, To Act Like Dracula Rather Than Frankenstein's Monster, Who Ruined Everything By Handing That Peasant Girl A Flower. He Sort Of Made Up For It By Drowning Her A Few Minutes Later, But, Still, You Couldn't Look At Him The Same Way Again.

Speed Eliminates All Doubt. Am I Smart Enough? Will People Like Me? Do I Really Look All Right In This Plastic Jumpsuit?

I've Maintained Old Friendships, Like With People I Knew In The Nineteen-seventies, But Have Lost The Knack For Meeting New People. This Has A Lot To Do With My Writing Schedule. I Don't Want To Be Disturbed, And The Willingness To Be Disturbed Is, I Think, Part Of Being A Good Friend.