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Before I came, confusion abounded.I'm late, I'm late was frequently sounded.I'm not average, but was based on a mean.My size, in theory, is constant: fifteen.I'm two dozen steps, again in theory.But walk my length and you'd get weary.I take half and quarter steps at times.In reality, I don't follow the lines.I shrink to nothing in two cold extremes.Over a thousand miles wide in the betweens.What am I?
Dood, where you been?