I had plans… grand plans… to post something meaningful this week. Something that would make others think, perhaps grow in their life perceptions.
Because, you know, I’m deep like that.
Just ask my husband. He’s quite fond of saying my mind is a cavernous void.
I’m kidding. He doesn’t say that.
But in all seriousness, I actually started writing something last week, trying to stay ahead of the game, and then this week happened. I didn’t even pass go until Wednesday, when I finally saw the completion of the most heart wrenching letter to insurance I hope to ever have to compose.
But the piece de resistance, of course, was that my leg choose this week to go numb… the same week my husband so wonderfully had to go out of town… and all of my daughter’s workers cancelled.
Pure tragedy that all compiled to cause me to miss out on a very important day. National Fast Food Day.
Apparently more, because I then had to say a final farewell to a friend long before their time. I had only eaten three minuscule pieces of that Hershey’s with Almond giant-sized bar when it met its untimely demise on my recently muddied kitchen floor.
But before you start feeling sorry for me, don’t worry. All is not lost.
I’ll fight ’til I’m dead,
’til I’m buried and gone.
You’ll have to pry the chocolate
from my cold, dead grasp.
Though my week may have been shitty,
I’m still alive, and guess what?
It’s tequila day, bitches.
So you, life, can just kiss my ass.
…Profound words brought to you by Sierra Kummings #yourewelcome