I started writing about my long-ago battle of wits with my goddaughter...um, let's see -- maybe last year? To be honest, I have no idea. I was bad enough keeping track of time before COVID and now every day I'm asking myself "Wait, is today Blursday or Thriday the 81st of Junvember?" Anyway, better late than never, right?
Ever look in the mirror and go 'WTF? I look like I've run out of meds.' Yeah, I'm kind of at that moment right now.
My memory sucks. All I wanted to do was go up to the grocery store. But I just couldn't find my damned wallet.
Thing are getting real with COVID19 as businesses close and events are canceled. Yours truly is stuck at home, so thought I might as well post some thoughts on the matter.
The Houseguest has been a great roommate -- except for when she's a pain in the ass. Like when it comes to certain smells -- like pot pies.
I don't know why, but even though I don't eat right and I don't exercise, I've always felt like I'm a healthy person. Until this week, that is, when I entered medical hell.
It was that time of year when I decide to take on a DIY project and my friends get nervous. And this would be the biggest project ever.
Does it ever feel like life has kidnapped you and is holding you hostage so you can't get anything done? After a few weeks of this, life is slowly returning to normal. (Whether that's a good thing is a separate question.)
Some of us are just made to cause trouble. It's our curse.
I tell you, it's awful when your memory starts to go. Did I already post about this??
Tales from the Land Manatee 