aauuuggggghhhhhh.
I'm looking for a dealership or pawn shop or black market or SOMETHING. Where can I trade in this miserable failure of a body? Please, something. Memory's bad, vision's bad, heart's bad. Bad, do you hear me? BAD. WAY BAD.
Henry David Thoreau had Walden Pond. I, on the other hand, have a couch. Reflecting on universal themes depicted in reality TV and detergent commercials. Sigh. My wilderness: life as a teenage shut-in.
But seriously, black market? Anyone?
peace,
emma
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Oh, I hear ya.
ReplyDeleteDear sweet Emma, Everyday I check your blog. And just before I hit the button I think to myself...today is going to be a GOOD day for her. Then I get bummed when I see you are having a BAD day. :( But I don't stay bummed long cuz' even in your "baddest" days your wit and humor make me chuckle!! I can picture you lugging your miserable failure of a body (your words right?) and flopping yourself on top of a dingy cracked glass countertop in a run-down pawn shop and asking for a trade in! The mope behind the counter wouldn't know what to say...but you'd have something wickedly clever to say to him which would leave his mouth hanging wide open! So although your body is letting you down now...temporarily...your wonderful mind and delightful sense of humor is still GOOD. WAY GOOD. Keep smiling...it's always darkest before the dawn. Always keeping you in my prayers...Mrs. Romano
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