The blog has all but died & the little voice inside my head that’s been whispering “write!” for a year is now screaming “I SAID WRITE, WOMAN!” So I will, because having voices screaming inside one’s head gets a little unsettling after awhile.
Unfortunately today I am sick & I’ve been trying to write a blog on the company site (ya know, since I get paid for that) and that one is about entrance mats, and a professional blog about entrance mats is actually REALLY HARD to write when hopped up on four different medications.
SO, instead of a real blog I give you a copy of an email I sent to my person (who also happens to be sick). Sometimes we communicate solely in pins we stole off pinterest. Because we do what we want.
Subject: Whiny Sick Times
i have the cooties.
To clarify, my “person” is what some people might call my “best friend,” except “best friend” makes me think of schoolgirls on the playground, and that’s kind of different. Mostly because we’re not seven.
This, for those that never watched Grey’s Anatomy (or stopped watching it when it stopped being cool, like, I dunno, five seasons ago) is the quintessential definition of “my person.”
But don’t worry, neither of us would murder anybody. Probably. Mostly we’re concentrating our efforts towards making these germs die an ugly death. Plus murder is REALLY messy and I don’t like to clean.
I’ll write something slightly more substantial when the fog lifts.