I’m flaring like pants in the 70s

Sorry I’ve neglected you, reader. I’ve been very sick, because nobody warned me about the noxious tar fumes at work. For the last two weeks, I’ve been fainting, puking, rocking myself in the fetal position, and praying the following:

Dear God,

Please let me sleep through the night without pain or pain-induced nightmares about becoming the hobbit or a pregnant war bride.

Please don’t let my coworkers kill me.

Thank you for helping my dog not to shit all over my condo while I was in the hospital.

And thank you for oxy and Lily Tomlin.


I haven’t forgotten you, reader, but I’ve learned I’m pretty rotten to be around when I’m in pain. This is the most inspiring post I could muster. Although I only used one swear, which happens to be biologically accurate. I must be getting better.

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