We Just Don't Make Any Sense

The human race is so fickle. Some nights at home you think to yourself why doesn’t anybody ever just show up out of the blue and visit us here, we have a nice porch to sit on with a pretty view and lots of drinks? Then other nights when you’re sitting inside you hear a car pull into your driveway and you say, “Are you kidding me right now? Who’s here? Someone sneak over to where you can look, but don’t stick your big head in the window where they can see so we can pretend not to be here if we have to! Crawl across the floor if you have to! Who is it?” Where is that “I wish friends would just pop in and surprise us” attitude? Out the window. That same window your outraged head is in. Same thi

A Spoonful of Sugar Helps the Medicine Go Down

I’m on a chemotherapy drug now to help my autoimmune diseases, so my doctor said I might lose my hair on the top in the back. Well that should be an attractive look for me! I might have my husband spray paint that spot in the back and call it good. Or maybe do a combover like the guys do, that should be so pretty! She also said pick a day of the week you want to feel bad, because the day after you take the drug you’re going to feel blah and sad. Great. What day of the week do I hate so much that I want to feel sad that day? Monday, right? Doesn’t everybody hate Mondays? Sounds like a nice, horrible day anyways. But my sister Kathy said Mondays are already bad enough, you don’t want to go too

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