A quick note before we start: Victor’s meemaw came through the quadruple bypass and is doing well. Thanks for all the kind thoughts, you guys. She was blown away to know that so many people were pulling for her. If things go as planned she’ll be back home and stronger than ever in a few weeks.
And now, back to business as normal…
You know when you’re putting on your socks while you’re walking out of the bedroom and your left sock doesn’t want to cooperate so you have to sort of pause while bent over and you start to lose your balance so you just rest your head on your closed bedroom door while you pull on the rest of the sock, but then your husband comes in and when he pushes the door open he totally knocks you over and then he sees you on the floor with one sock on and an angry, accusing look on your face and he’s like “What the hell are you doing on the floor?” and you tell him that he hit you with the door and he says that it’s not possible because he would have heard your head hit the door, but you explain that there was no way to hear the thump because your head was already resting on the door because of your socks, and then he just looks at you like it’s your fault. But it’s not. It’s your sock’s fault. Or possibly the door’s fault.
There isn’t a point to this. Except that people need to knock before they open the door.
And that I need an ice-pack.
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And in other news, it’s Sunday, which means its time for the weekly wrap-up:
What you missed in my shop (Named “Eight pounds of uncut cocaine” so that your credit card bill will be more interesting.):
- Weird and proud. And delicious.
- Candy tin made with blood splatters in it. That way no one will want to steal your shit. Also, people might assume you’re a dangerous serial killer and will be less likely to assign you with new tasks at work.
What you missed on the internets:
This week on shit-I-didn’t-come-up-with-but-wish-I-did-because-it’s-kind-of-awesome:
This week’s wrap-up is brought to you by SilkWords, a new website that offers a first-of-its-kind reading experience for women’s fiction. It’s basically like choose-your-own-adventure, but for grown-ups. You should probably check it out (if you’re 18 or older).