I've been feeling in a reflective mood the past few days. I decided to write a letter to a friend reminiscing about a nice event last fall. It was going to be about a one page letter — in fact, I thought I might handwrite the final draft (I'm convinced handwritten notes are still preferable to typed in many respects). Well, that ain't happ'n. I said I was in a reflective mood, right? Well, I was really in that mood — the one page letter turned into a five an a half single-spaced page story (4,100 words). As is my usual mode of editing, each attempt to pare it down makes it longer. At times, my words can be like Tribbles (good thing I'm not a Klingon).
In other words, I'm wordy. Very wordy. It is at times like these, I wonder how I ever manage to meet the 600 word requirements for an op-ed… It is also at times like these I wonder if maybe I really should get into politics. Seriously, I have been known to win a debate solely on the fact that I can keep churning out words until everyone has grown tired of debating with me (of course, I'm right, which helps).