I think it’s Wednesday. If it isn’t, don’t tell me. Have been burning the candle at both ends trying to get my new “enterprise” off the ground. Not complaining a minute but … have not had an original thought since … some other day. Have had much interaction with the population outside my front door. Which forces me to the keyboard. I am not smoking crack, snorting rowdy powder, or anything else illegal. Am drinking some serious java. What follows are my thoughts, “rules”, and true stuff that I know today. Wednesday. I think.
Just So You Know
- If I am your mother, I’m not your friend. If I’m your friend, I’m not your mother. My real name means “truth”; if you ask me for my opinion about your “whatever”, I will tell you the truth as I see it. If you want happily ever after, please see Hans Christian Anderson. If you need to know about your future, please see Dionne Warwick. If you want a candle, please see me.
How about those “Very Busy People”? You know, the ones who tell you over and over and over how Very Busy they are? And if you would like an audience with one, it could be in two months for 14 minutes when the moon is in the Seventh House and Jupiter aligns with Mars. GET OVER YOURSELF! Everyone is busy. What’s that? You want to see me? Oh, so not going to happen because … I’m a VERY BUSY PERSON.
My Cooking Partner, like my dad, believes in rules. For everyone else. They aren’t complete anarchists, they do the stop sign thing and pay taxes. Everything else is debatable. This attitude would be a BIG burr under my saddle. CP is determined to have me incarcerated by my homeowners association. He and my dog, Cooper, are in love. He is great about taking Cooper for a walk. But he refuses to use a leash nor will he scoop le poop. The city has a law about that: all dogs leashed, all poop scooped. But no. He took Coop for a walk the other night and lo and behold, he got the serious stink eye from a neighbor who has nothing to do but issue stink eyes to rule breakers. So now I am spreading joy and glee all about, in hopes I will not be invited to sell my house. Meh!!
I thought we, as a country, were in a financial pickle. Someone forgot to tell the credit card companies. My daughters receive about three “sign up nows” from credit monsters each week. Dear Slimeball Credit Card Issuers: Pick on people who have a big income and can pay your stupid rates. YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELVES. If you were human. But as the Bank of America mess has shown us, you are computers. Nevermind.
- Note to anyone wanting $ from me (excluding bills as I follow rules and pay them): this ATM is OUT of CASH until further notice. I don’t care if the plane ticket is only $1, the dress is perfection, the wheels fell off your car, you really need a cosmetic procedure and you are afraid to approach anyone in your own family for the dough, you really need a vacation. Call me stupid, but last time I looked in the mirror, I didn’t see a bank.
Rather than lay down any more laws around here, I’ll dash. There are candles to be sold, poop to be scooped, telemarketers to be tortured (I keep a whistle by the phone), and neighbors to be dazzled by the sight of Cooper on a leash. Oh yeah, and a calendar to be consulted so I know what day it is.