Friday, April 13, 2018
A New Story for Today, Friday, 4/13/2018
So. All of you that thought Obama care was such a good idea, that thought it was SO great that he "helped" the people who couldn't afford the program he forced them into, it seems the "help" he gave you, that you now have to pay back, is a far worse financial burden than the penalty would have been. You can let go of your ankles now and stand up. Trump says you don't have to pay back the assistance next year.
Want to buy an extended warranty on this used car I am selling you?
Thursday, April 12, 2018
Today's Story, April 11, 2018
Today's story. April 11, 2018
So I wanted my favorite chicken and dumplings for my birthday dinner. That was Monday. But everyone was busy. My husband "liked" a wish from another person. That was his contribution to my birthday celebration. So on the way back from errands I bought a quonset pizza. Tuesday Fran came by with two cards and a bag of truffles. She made the kids call and say Happy Birthday. I actually got a greeting from each of my brothers.
Fran is terribly busy, doing clinicals to finish her masters and also working. But it is getting old. I am not supposed to drive. I have no license. ( Thanks, Lisa.) And have crippling agoraphobia. I have been picking up Delaney after school and bringing her here. I hit a car in the school parking lot. Fuck it. I didn't own it. So Lou picked her up two days and tomorrow. He is losing it completely.
Today I made the soup. Delaney ate two bowls. The dumplings were fluffy. Succés foú. So I go to clean up. Fran came in and had a small bowl. She doesn't even like it but thought she had to. But needed to be home for paper. So I try to make space in the fridge for pot. I am sick of recontainering everything with elaborate and expensive elán like some must do and leave the various detritus for the negro slave to clean up.
I first pick up a small carton of apple sauce. It had exploded. It was stuck. Everything on the shelf was stuck hard. This did not happen ten minutes ago. Hard stuck. Days. No one mentions. So I unstick. Wash some containers; throw much away. Take shelf and wash. Replacing shelf, knock over bowl of left over waffle batter. Fills next shelf. I remove objects, wash batter off them. Sop up puddle of batter. Remove shelf to wash. Notice batter filled crisper. Remove crisper to wash. Throw away tube of ground turkey that says use or freeze by March 17, 2017. Throw much away. Fucking olives. Fucking pickles. Sparkling crisper now contains one can frosting, one package hummus, one package new tortillas.
Last year's birthday was horrible. This year's was equally bad but lasted three days. I had to cancel dental appointment Tuesday because I had panic attack which sends my blood pressure into a mini Buckingham fountain that spurts out the top of my head. Tuesday night, heavily doped, took Delaney to first grade open house. You know. Where you go in the door that is at the opposite end of the horseshoe shaped building where the classroom is located so your hip is screaming and you have these tiny chairs. So when "someone" got home from work and gave me two reefer gummies, I took them both. Zowie.
So I wanted my favorite chicken and dumplings for my birthday dinner. That was Monday. But everyone was busy. My husband "liked" a wish from another person. That was his contribution to my birthday celebration. So on the way back from errands I bought a quonset pizza. Tuesday Fran came by with two cards and a bag of truffles. She made the kids call and say Happy Birthday. I actually got a greeting from each of my brothers.
Fran is terribly busy, doing clinicals to finish her masters and also working. But it is getting old. I am not supposed to drive. I have no license. ( Thanks, Lisa.) And have crippling agoraphobia. I have been picking up Delaney after school and bringing her here. I hit a car in the school parking lot. Fuck it. I didn't own it. So Lou picked her up two days and tomorrow. He is losing it completely.
Today I made the soup. Delaney ate two bowls. The dumplings were fluffy. Succés foú. So I go to clean up. Fran came in and had a small bowl. She doesn't even like it but thought she had to. But needed to be home for paper. So I try to make space in the fridge for pot. I am sick of recontainering everything with elaborate and expensive elán like some must do and leave the various detritus for the negro slave to clean up.
I first pick up a small carton of apple sauce. It had exploded. It was stuck. Everything on the shelf was stuck hard. This did not happen ten minutes ago. Hard stuck. Days. No one mentions. So I unstick. Wash some containers; throw much away. Take shelf and wash. Replacing shelf, knock over bowl of left over waffle batter. Fills next shelf. I remove objects, wash batter off them. Sop up puddle of batter. Remove shelf to wash. Notice batter filled crisper. Remove crisper to wash. Throw away tube of ground turkey that says use or freeze by March 17, 2017. Throw much away. Fucking olives. Fucking pickles. Sparkling crisper now contains one can frosting, one package hummus, one package new tortillas.
Last year's birthday was horrible. This year's was equally bad but lasted three days. I had to cancel dental appointment Tuesday because I had panic attack which sends my blood pressure into a mini Buckingham fountain that spurts out the top of my head. Tuesday night, heavily doped, took Delaney to first grade open house. You know. Where you go in the door that is at the opposite end of the horseshoe shaped building where the classroom is located so your hip is screaming and you have these tiny chairs. So when "someone" got home from work and gave me two reefer gummies, I took them both. Zowie.
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