What a week…month…2019…
Can I have a do-over?
Specifically, can I pretend it’s January 1, 2019?
If I hear one more person say, “You need to count your blessings,” someone is going to need a new nose and it won’t be me.
Actually, it might be me. When you’re 5’4″ 101 pounds (and haven’t hit anything since you fell into a wall yesterday), punching someone in the nose might be harder than it sounds.
My personal life is…well…personal but it reminds me too much of the cat that rarely leaves my computer monitor and likes to show his butt.
I love my job, and would very much love to do it right.
And don’t get me started on health and well-being. Or getting my books published. Or keeping a house clean when your other half thinks that “clean” means picking up a broom once a year.
At least he doesn’t complain when I can’t clean for a month.
If I could only teach dogs to sweep, I’d have clean house in no time, but they do lick the plates clean with finesse.
I will NOT talk about politics for one simple reason: No one has a sense of humor. One side screams “you hurt my feelings” and the other side says, “suck it up, snowflake.” We used to be able to laugh about our political faults. It was called free speech. I miss free speech.
If it gets any worse, I’ll be in the middle of a civil war by 2020. Not that I want to be in a civil war, but my stomach has been waging one against me for months already.
And the headaches! My other half has offered to perform a craniectomy, but I’m not yet ready to lose my head over it.
So…unless I can have a 2019 do-over, there will be a civil war, and my cat will have to learn how to open his own can of food.
However, I fear that he’ll change loyalties quicker than I can find a funny cat meme — changing sides according to who, at that moment, is in possession of a can opener.
2019, you’re a HUGE disappointment!