Yesterday, a friend of mine saw a man with a wheelchair walking (so to speak) a three-legged dog.

I've decided that your reaction to this situation is a splendid test to determine precisely what kind of personality you have.

If you think: It's so sweet that they found each other. Fate brought them together. They each have been taught, by their personal tragedies, about the importance of inner-beauty.

You're a glass half-full kind of person.

If you think: The evil man probably chopped off his dog's leg because he's bitter about being in a wheelchair and didn't want to be the only crippled one in the house.

You're a glass half-empty kind of person.

If you think: I bet the man isn't really crippled at all and he's just been riding in a wheelchair all these years so the poor dog won't feel bad about only having three legs. You know, kind of like when a kid in the third grade gets cancer so a bunch of kids also shave their heads to show camaraderie? Like that. Or maybe the guy really IS in a wheelchair, but the dog is just faking the loss of a limb so his owner won't feel alone. Either way.

You're me.

(I think it's entirely possible that this blog doesn't make any sense. I'm a little sleepy and my head hurts. If I had a sympathetic dog, I assume that right now he'd be writing something that doesn't make any sense to make me feel less alone.)