It’s raining, it’s pouring. If it was raining cats and dogs they’d be Rottweilers and those scary-mean hairless cats that’ll claw your eyes out.
Karma? Stupidity? Both? Either way I’ve been quite sick since last week’s grand impromptu adventure, eventually admitting defeat and taking two days off work.
Finally it was suggested I stop infesting the house and get some sun and salt air to work on this snot factory. So I schlepped over to the beach to snore loudly and annoy vacationing Canadians as opposed to my roomates.
While walking along the waves to find a spot, my clever car keys found the one hole in my couture beach bag (a la Walmart) and are probably decorating a mermaid grotto somewhere right now.
I figured all this would, if nothing else, make a decent story. And then they called to tell me Grandpap had passed away.
It’s days like this that you find out how good of friends you’ve got. And mine are good. Very good. 🙂