I don't think I've ever gone on record with this. My life is good. So blessed am I, every single day, that I feel like it just cannot last. I think about that a lot. My brain tells me that bad and good have to be in balance. Probably this is a symptom of some psychosis but a life this good feels like it's bound to be short.
On a lighter note... is this a pun?
He moved on from there and dug another well. But no one argued about that one. So he named it Rehoboth. He said, "Now the Lord has given us room. Now we will do well in the land."