There is a blister on the bottom of my foot. It hurts. It distracts me.

Which is good. It keeps me in the room.

You see, I have slipped back into a pattern of self-centeredness. Narcissism, if you will. I failed the test.

The color of the wallpaper? Wrong. The temperature of the room? Right. The number of girls in the room?...

Wrong. Wow. What have I become?

So, for the duration of this blister, I will use its frequent reminders of its existence, to check in. What is the experience of the others in my conversation. In the room. In my life.

And be aware. And stop being an asshole. Stop being consumed by my own problems.