Actually, I personally believe that riding the motorcycle, which is both very physical and kind of dangerous, kept me wide awake, and staying slim was pretty easy.
I saw a lot of women, too.
And then one day I had a wart on my nose.
When I was a kid, I’d got a wart on a finger. That was frozen, cut off, and stitched up. A few years later, another on a knuckle was treated with radiation, which made it very unhappy and it went away.
And now, when I was getting plenty of dates, there was a wart on my nose! Not like it was hidden away somewhere. Right there on my nose, as if scouting where I was headed for.
Not attractive, no.
I decided that I didn’t want a wart on my nose.
I decided to make the wart uncomfortable, so that it would go away. I decided that I wanted it to drop off my body.
Every day, in the morning and again in the evening, in the bathroom of Apartment #5, I stared at the wart in the mirror. I touched it with my finger, and said — with lots of intention — “I want you to extend out of my skin, turn into a ball, and fall off.”
Every day, morning and evening, I focussed as best I could.
In a couple of days, the skin around the wart changed shape. It began to protrude from the skin, and then, at the base, grew thinner. Finally, one day it just fell off.
My nose again proud and happy, I returned to my busy life.
I hate to be rude, but some visitors are just unwelcome, and that’s all there is to it.