I used to be happy. That was before I became a ghost. Now I don't care so much any more. Not really. Not about most things. I guess the worst part is that I can't play with the cat these days. Whenever I go over there and try to tickle it or whatever, all I get is a big hissy fit, and a cat who's up near the ceiling after climbing the drapes. This never impresses my landlady, in a good way at all.
Well, I can still smile, or try to, though no one can tell what I'm doing. I used to be told that I had a nice smile. Until that one day when somebody stole it while I was in a store buying cream cheese. Things have been different since then. My taste for cheese has declined significantly, and I never bother smiling, or trying to. I did find my smile for sale on eBay but didn't bother bidding on it. Why pay for something that already belongs to me? So I cut one out of a magazine. Remember those? Got a home transplant kit and went with that. The results look kind of funny, but then again, since I'm a ghost, no one can see me anyway, except in the dark, faintly. I'm only a faint glow at the top of the stairs at midnight, and that's when I'm feeling perky. Usually I don't show up at all.
Cattle don't mind.
Went out for a walk and caught a gust of wind. Truly amazing experience. I've been trying to do this my whole life. It made a sort of mild squeaking sound, like it was afraid, but quit after a while. I think we're friends now. Yes, it did pee in my shirt pocket, but I'm past that. Now wherever I go, I have someone to squeak to, and more fresh air than I can possibly ever use.
Yes, I still put on fresh underwear every day, though since I'm invisible and technically do not exist, at least in your limited four dimensions of space and time, you'd never know by just looking, or sniffing either. I am no longer sniffable, though no one ever requested the favor, or tried it on the sly when I was. Never, which gives me one more thing to wonder about. Sure, I, as well as most, I think, would have had a problem with some unknown person coming up behind me unannounced to sniff my butt, but you know it's all relative. Friends might have been OK, especially if they asked first, and I never had anything to hide since I've always been clean, so what's the big deal then?
A ghost without a smile is like a fish without a woman, which is similar to something or other that I can't quite remember right now, though it still makes me chuckle at times. Isn't that great?
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