innocent paws and dead batteries

Argh. Grumble. Mutter. Twitch.

Last Friday night I picked up and carried my daughter when we were out for dinner. It was fun. Tell that to my left should which has not stopped hurting since despite applications of arnica and heating pad. Last night I went out into the garage to change a load of laundry and opened up the laundry cabinet only to have a wood-handled (read heavy) brush fall out and land on edge on my wrist. It still hurts. This morning I was putting on my jacket as I walked down on of our hallways and whacked my right elbow on a wall. It still hurts.

Ok already! Enough aching body parts. So ok, says the universe back to me. However, I am not done yet, says the universe.

Talk to the pool guy about the leak and what its going to cost to repair it. Go spend a half an hour determining that the battery on your porsche is dead. Then go inside and read the bottom line on that roofing estimate.

GRUMBLE. GRRRR. I wish I were a cat sometimes. Princess has the way of it. She fiercely climbs fence posts and hangs paws down innocently awaiting victims then diligently hides under rugs awaiting ankles and toes to attack. Going to hand me shit? Fine. Just don't stand near my rug. I have my ways to get where I have to be.

ArticlesAnnette Wagner