But the reasons for lying and the quality of lies interest me less than the sheer number we supposedly tell.
At this moment, I have cleared my mind to be aware of every thought passing through it. Hmmm, seems my mind is like West Texas, and the number of thoughts like tumbleweeds — there just isn’t that much there, and there’s very little going through.
In other words, I don’t have enough thoughts to lie twice, let alone a dozen times, every 10 minutes.
On the other hand, maybe I am lying but don’t know it.
Maybe my mind is Eddie Van Halen’s guitar, and a zillion thoughts are blazing through its mental fretboard so fast that I can’t discern them all, much less count them, as they whoosh by in their aural blur. So, maybe, in all those thoughts, I am lying my head off but just can’t hear it.
Whatever the case, I was gratified that when my editor asked the whereabouts of my column, I could say the story was on its way. The only reason it took two days (okay, maybe three) is that I was waiting for an interview with the president.