Right. So I have my tea, I've taken a multitude of pills. AND I STILL HURT. But no matter. I am the contented one. I have had a Good Day. As I was stumbling home, soaked to the bone and covered in seven layers of mud, I thought to myself, "Wow. I am perfectly contented. I have mud in my shoes, I am stepping in every puddle possible - partly because I'm still a three year old at heart, and partly because I like the squidgy wetness around my toes - my hair is plastered to my face, and a little droplet of rain is readying itself to fall of the tip of my nose, and I am Perfectly Contented. I really like life at the moment, and I don't think I could be more happy than I am at this precise moment."
It was then that a huge lorry came past, drove into a gargantuous puddle, and splashed me from head to toe.
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