In 1985, I squeaked through algebra, and have studiously avoided math classes every since. I’m paying for that avoidance.
Doing Statistics sucks.
Guess the folks who can,
Make big bucks.
I’d like to set my sights
A little lower,
Play with my flowers
And my mower.
Make my living
Smithing words
Even if they
Are seldom heard.
But into each life
Some math must fall.
Guess I’m not finished
With it after all.
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