I missed the whole Dallas premiere.
Me in my designer gown
and stuck on a live call-in class.
It is all comfy cozy waiting on me
in my DVR.
Tonight I hope to have the date.
If you got to view and you see me,
don't tell me anything...
even if I pursue it.
If you do, I will have to cut you.
Today I have a doctor appt.
I have a cuticle infection.
It is not lovely.
I had a hang nail,
then I gardened naked.
Well, my hands were naked.
I mean be real people.
Then, I scrubbed them with a nail brush.
Saturday it looked red.
Sunday the unanimous diagnosis was ...yucky.
Everyone said go to the doctor.
Tuesday I couldn't get in to the doctor.
Wednesday I couldn't go fit an appt. in.
So I may show up today and he will call me a wuss.
I can't care.
All the single ladies,
I wanna put a ring on it.
My Dallas-inspired viewing gown begs for a bauble.
However, I cannot adorn this sick digit.
For those of you who have been saying
"Gee you have had a lot of sickness this Spring."
Yes, apparently my immune system is in my fat.
AND I have admitted to being a whino.
Tear my arm off
( and I tried washing windows, remember?)
and I don't complain much
Give me a paper cut and I will gripe.
It's how I roll.