The same thoughts recur every time I search for a four-leaf clover on my way to work

First, I'm always surprised to see something so mundane in La Jolla:
Wow, clovers!

Then comes my limited knowledge gleaned (between naps) from Statistics 121:
There're a million of 'em! I've gotta be able to find at least ten.

The justification for stopping:
I'll give one to Megan.

The real reason:
Four leaf clovers are cool.

The unsuccessful hunt begins to frustrate:
Those people sitting in their cars behind me are probably watching.

Then comes my limited knowledge gleaned (between videogames) from four years of biology and various other sciences:
The four-leaf clover is a genetic anomaly.

Time passes:
I'm late.

Memories begin drifting through my head:
I think my sister kept a four-leaf clover on her bulletin board. That was pretty cool.

More memories surface:
I once ate some clovers when I was about four. They were sour yet refreshing. Horses eat clover. Are they the same thing?

And then, for some reason:
There was that episode of Ghostbusters: The Animated Series where Winston had to find a four-leaf clover to fight that Irish dog-ghost.

Wait for it:

...

......

.........

Good thing that dog's not after me.


I'm late.