I have thought a lot of stupid things in my life.

I used to think, “Asking for a friend,” meant, “Hey, I really could use a buddy in this endeavor.” For example, “Anyone know how to replace the ink in an HP printer? Asking for a friend.”

I still kind of like my version better, even after learning that the real intended meaning is something like, “This question is totally not for me. My fictitious friend is the dummy.”

Another very stupid thing I’ve thought and continue to think from time to time, is that I can’t do it.

I think I can’t write. I think I can’t or shouldn’t deviate from my, “normal,” job to go type things that fall anywhere on the spectrum from irrelevant to sage online for tens and tens of people. I think I’m not smart enough or good enough or safe enough or brave enough. I think that I don’t know what I’m doing, even as I’m doing it.

These, friends, are pretty dumb, unhelpful things to think.

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