...which is better than being a big 'ol female dog. I don't know what was wrong with everybody, but all day long I felt that I was being nibbled to death by a bunch of ducks. Sheesh y'all (not you specifically) but everyone else that I came in contact with, would ya just give a gal a break? Please. When I enter my work cubicle, please say 'howdy' before you inundate me with your endless and mindless minutia. And to my dear children: I realize that we drive unreliable jalopies. The fact that we only have one vehicle in our redneck-ed fleet that currently functions is simply a fact of your life and mine. Shall we agree to co-exist in transit to and fro without abject horror that I'm letting you out of my Jeep in front of the school so that all your friends can see? I realize that it is a matter of pride that you hide the fact that you must start your own car with a screwdriver because the starter doesn't work and doing so is much better than riding with me on any given day. But suck it up my dear princesses.
The only person who didn't ask anything from me today except if he could help me, was my husband. Thus, he is my hero for the day.
On my way to Pottertown this morning (where I did happen upon some kind folk) Scott and I saw this cow. I was delighted to find this cow giving me the 'bovine finger'. Although she wasn't actually sticking her tongue out at me... and she was just eating, I glommed on to the idea that she may be in the same irritated mood as me.
