"I am what I am," is possible the most feeble excuse conceivable for abjectly appalling behavior. That said, there are areas, such as idleness around learning the rudiments of spelling which might have a series of possible good excuses. There's dyslexia, which is up there at the top of any kind of top ten list, and down somewhere near the bottom along with too many hours spent in Spelling Detention is a sort of sneer at the Champions of the Spelling Bee which goes something like, "some of us have better things to do than pour over the 18th Century meaning of the word work in order to persuade Supreme Court Justice originalists that work includes what sub-contractors get paid to do." And by the way it's also true that February is by far the longest month in the year, April just zips by.
Anyway, not to get too carried away, after a sleepless night, and a long arduous
road trip which failed to produce a Model Shop which had as the saying goes "Up
and Left" robbing me of an opportunity to purr at the many and sticky corporate
elements of N scale I have added the name Domhnall to my spell check. A
sad day, I know, but I have chosen simply to call myself a sinner in whom there
is no hope, and I am endeavoring to find solace in the understanding that Saint
Domhnall of Ogilvy's wife and nine daughters wouldn't even have heard of the
English name Donald. They would have spoken Gaelic and so basically I'm sinning
no more than aiding and abetting that majority of our Supreme Court Justices who
apparently exist in an alternate reality and probably have had the misfortune to
have never spent a second of their formative years in Spelling Detention..