More Complaints

Every night is a bad night. I can’t remember the last good night I had.

And it’s starting to catch up with me.

I am covered from head to toe in white cat hair, and my clothes are dark.

My tongue is killing me. I need that surgery. And now I probably have to wait until we meet our $3,000 deductible again. Shouldn’t be long, of course, if I end up needing hand surgery.

This has been not the easiest year.

I hadn’t intended to rattle off all of my woes in this post. I changed the title midway through.

No, I had hoped to make this one humorous. Epic fail. Sorry, friends.

Now I’m not in the mood to be funny.

I had a dream and I think D was in it. He is on second shift and I don’t really know him, but he is always pleasant toward me.

Don’t worry, it wasn’t that kind of dream. I rarely if ever have those. Most of my dreams are nightmares, unfortunately.

I have to go do the groceries. I’m sorry if I bummed you out with this lame, miserable post. Aw, man! If you have a bad morning I’m going to feel partially responsible.

Okay, I can help. Think happy thoughts: Chocolate, Christmas, sex, boobs, butt, presents, candy, fudge, kayaking, summer, naked, puppies, roaring fireplace, kittens, dream house, cleansing breaths, whirlpool bath, wine and cheese, retirement, nap, the Kardashians—whoops, how’d that get in there?

Anyway, have a good day, my friends. Thanks for reading ❤️ ♥️ 💜