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I’d like my light to turn green now, please.
Published September 7, 2010 | The road to happily ever after is a long one. Think Harrison Ford looking at Anne Heche in Six Days, Seven Nights and breaking it to her that they are likely to be stranded on a desert island for, ya know, a LONG time.
Along the way, in amongst the easy, no potholed roads that wend their way thru fields of flowers, there are some treacherous, mountainy (probably not a word, but forgive me anyway), sheer drop off kind of roads. Some roads have lots of turns, mostly U turns as my Navigation system enjoys reminding me because I’m an idiot and keep forgetting how to shut that floozy up. Possibly a fender bender where you cause SIX THOUSAND DOLLARS worth of damage to your car without even spilling your cup of coffee, or a fullblown multiple vehicle incident that can change your life forever. But, that’s a post for another time.
Currently, Hubunit and I are at the adoption mile marker on our road. And the adoption thing is like that road in San Francisco that is impossibly bent. I know. That road seems an improbable route to happily ever after, but still, we are on it. Mostly because it’s worked for us before. Which, to a sane person, would seem to imply that we should count our lucky stars and leave well enough alone. But, never having been accused of being sane before, why start now . . .
Yeah, except I’m tired of waiting. I’ve done my part. After all, I convinced Hubunit to jump on board AND we’re still married. I spent hours, days, weeks, months poring over the internet, researching countries, ages, glimpsed photos of waiting kids and built entire lives for them out of the figment of my imagination. I returned over and over to the Guatemala government’s adoption page and stared at those spanish words, willing them to miraculously scream, we’re open again. I slowly adjusted the dream and started to find myself drawn to Hungary. Well, first I had to find it on the map and then I daydreamed about it alot. I looked at more photos of kids with medical issues, cleft palate, missing fingers, club feet and knew in my heart that we could accept a child like that into our hearts and our lives. I filled out reams and reams of forms. I bared my soul to the social worker, well, and the fingerprint person. I emailed, photocopied, faxed, scanned and FedEx’d till my head exploded.
And now? Now it’s hard for me to understand that Europe takes August off. Oh yeah. The whole continent closes up shop and goes on holiday.
Huh. Don’t they care that Monkey tells everyone he meets that we are trying to get a new baby brudder or sister? That he is saving his toys in a pile for them to play with since he’s convinced that even a baby sister will already love Pokemon. Or that he was saving left over food for the new little one, cuz who doesn’t want half of a three month old PB&J?
Surprisingly, I am not a patient person. I really need to work on that. In the meantime, if you have one of those thingymabobbers that can turn a red light green with just a tap of the button – you’re my new best friend. Seriously, you need to share that thing now. It’s good for your soul.
It was a tornado. And we almost lost the doublewide.
Published May 21, 2010 | We had our first 5 year old sleepover last week. Hubunit was wisely working and I was here on my own. When I set it up, I thought, Huh, you can handle two kids. After all, soon you’ll have two kids all the time.
Then the force of nature who is monkey’s friend showed up and I realized, F-A-W-C-K-I-N-H-E-L-L-F-I-R-E, I’m old. This may not come as a surprise to any of you, but oddly, it shocked me.
Monkey’s friend has, uh, alot of energy. Not that monkey doesn’t, but mostly it’s controlled, easy going energy. And monkey’s friend likes to ask questions. ALOT. He’s really cute and sweet, with his curly hair and clip-on tie, but OMG, what was I thinking?
After playing with every toy in our house, which is a considerable amount of toys I’m ashamed to admit, he ran into the kitchen where I was making dinner (shhhhhh) and asked me, what are we gonna do now miss linda? I knew he’d gone rogue, like Jack Bauer in 24, because monkey would NEVER, EVER run into the kitchen to talk to me while I was fixing dinner. But in that sweet breathy boy voice, which now haunts my dreams, he continued, there’s no toys to play with.
Well. Him’s a liar. Because when I looked around, I could see that we don’t need new carpet any more, we now have toy carpet. Seriously. I have seen 25 kids play in this house for several hours and not have as many toys on the floor as this charming monster did in about 15 minutes flat. Truly a talent.
Somewhere in the middle of the evening hubunit called me and before I’d had time to say hello, I had to say goodbye because they were breaking the toilet. A toilet that monkey has managed to use without incident for the past year and a half. An innocent toilet, who’s only crime was to be defenseless while having a lid that can be (gasp) lifted off and then dropped back down to create the wonderfully loud noise of ceramic hitting ceramic at a high rate of speed. Poor toilet.
Then we had to get ready for bed, which involved water and going to the bathroom. The horror. But eventually I had them both shoved into their sleeping bags on the floor in monkey’s room, armed with flashlights and every stuffed animal known to childhood.
I crawled downstairs to dial Hubunit at work.
Him: Hello?
Me (whispering): Help me.
Him: Helllllo?
Me (louder): Seriously, HELP ME. (shouting)
Him: Who is this?
Me: We have to stop the adoption.
Me: I’m not kidding. We might get a tornado and I DON’T HAVE THE ENERGY. I’m afraid.
Hubunit: Ok. We can kiss the $xx,xxx+ goodbye and I’ll get to keep my Harley.
Me: Really? You want to keep your Harley?
Posted in Who's Spawn ARE you?, Wine-Whine-Bitch | 
adoption, daily life, five year old sleepover, humor, husband, love, Wife | 
2 CommentsI got a new attitude…
Published September 11, 2009 | Do you remember that old Pointer Sisters song? I sure do…but then again, I’m stuck in the ’80′s with a lot of really crap music trapped in this noggin of mine.
But I’m not here to discuss lyrics from a song that was on the Beverly Hills Cop soundtrack…I’m here to discuss what came up recently in my daily meditation, and how that actually affects me AND you.
We ALL know negative people. Let’s face it…80% of the population walks around with a cloud over their head.
You ask someone how their day is going and they piss and moan. Not that one has to lie about how they feel, but c’mon folks. Think about the coworker, the friend, the guy in the elevator that made you want to slit your wrists the minute you walked away….we’ve all been there. It’s ALL ABOUT ATTITUDE & APPROACH. If you have a good healthy attitude, it can rub off – even on the most cantankerous, negative people. Try it sometime.
In my book, Ayamanatara, it states, “…When you are cheerful, you lift people up out of their doldrums and offer them an opportunity to be cheerful as well. You shine light into the lives of others. You can literally change their reality.” This is SO powerful.
My Dad, who I talk about all the time…used to say, when asked how he was “If I got any better, I couldn’t stand myself.” This little bit of humor almost always diffused a hard ass. Not always, but almost always. I find myself saying exactly what he used to say. I don’t know why, but I just LOVE to do this.
Which of these conversations would you rather have?
SCENARIO 1 -
Driver, pulling up to toll booth in parking garage, cranky “How are you? How much do I owe ya?”
Attendant, glares “Well…I got 4 more hours in this hot ass booth…that’ll be $2.00″
Driver, feeling irritated “Well, here you go…”
SCENARIO 2 -
Driver pulls up to pay booth in parking garage “Hey there! How’s it going today?” (chipper with a genuine smile, not just shoving money at the guy/gal)
Attendent, shocked by cheerfulness “Uh, okay…how are you?”
Driver: “If I got any better I couldn’t stand myself!”
Attendent, laughing, smiling “Is that so….well, I like that. That’ll $2.00″ Cash exchanged -
Driver “You have a GREAT day”
Attendent “You too!”
I know what you guys are thinking…yeah right, you Pollyanna Crackhead…but it’s true. You can ask Mr. G. I do it all the time…(except while driving on I-10 and I’ve been cut off umpteen times…) But I do try to maintain a very cheerful attitude – it can manifest itself in so many different ways.
So…back to my meditation…It started with this quote:
“You find yourself refereshed by the presence of cheerful people. Why not make an honest effort to confer that pleasure on others? Half the battle is gained if you never allow yourself to say anything gloomy.” Lydia M. Child
Don’t be the Debbie Downer or the Negative Nelly…with nothing nice never coming outta your mouth. Just pretend…seriously, nobody likes a pessimist.
Now snarky is a whole other ball of wax…that we’ll save for another day!
Really, Dad, I don’t think they call them cadillacs any more . . .
Published June 26, 2009 | So I was driving home from the eye doctor the other day and there was this guy on a motorcycle in front of me. The cool kind of guy with a big, beautiful Harley and a t-shirt that had a picture of a semi-naked woman and it said something like I got serviced at Bartlets. Or Bartels. Basically, I think he got’er done in a bar by a nice naked woman and don’t you wish I weren’t dyslexic so I could tell y’all where that bar is? Yeah, that kind of cool I’m not.
And his neat, post-servicing and all I got was this dumb t-shirt was blowing up in the back a little bit and I could see part of a HUGE tattoo on his lower back and it said . . . something. I was intrigued. But I couldn’t read it, so it was driving me crazy. I thought it must be something profound and thought provoking, cause he was clever enough to know it would only show when he was riding fast enough for his t-shirt to blow up.
Nope. I never did figure it out. I choose to believe he had the answer to the universe written on his back/buttcrack/taint. Whoa. Not sure why I went there, but now that I’m here, would the universe really explain itself on someone’s taint? Actually, now that I think about it, what more perfect place to hide a secret? Only the truly worthy would ever find it . . .
OR, he could have had the eye chart tattooed back there for all I know. Because evidently I can’t see that either. Turns out I have cataracts (not cadillacs, dad in heaven) in both eyes. Allegedly. Because the specialist hasn’t confirmed that yet.
So let’s not get upset or freak out or anything. No, no. Let’s not spend all night crying on the couch because when I sit outside with my four year old space nut, I can’t see the stars he’s talking about. Let’s not mourn the fact that I love to read almost more than I love to write and I can’t do either of those much any more. Definitely let’s not be scared by the thought of surgery on my eyes, or worse, being told I’m not a good candidate for surgery at all. NO. Let’s just take a deep breath and CALM DOWN people.
Oh, oh, but did I mention that I also have super-powers? It’s true. I am (indiscriminately annoy the hell out of hubunit) Supergirl. Because I’m from the planet human and he’s from the we’re-all-jerks-and-I’m-a-big-fat-man-ass planet. I don’t think he knows that yet. Can Supergirl save him . . . ?
Stay tuned.
PS: Or will she tie him up to a big net-draped wall, like Batman in the old TV show, and parade around in front of him like Catwoman did? In a vaguely threatening, yet completely alluring, and frankly, overtly sexual, way?
Seriously, stay tuned.
PPS: Oh, listen. Like everybody didn’t have wet dreams about that show. The masks, the tying up, the heavy breathing, the tights so tight-y under those swirly capes . . . Yeah, I bet you people never gave yourself knee hickeys or hovered over the drain in the bathtub as the water funneled out either. Riiiiiiight.
Someone throw me an oar … and a can of whoop ass while you’re at it.
Published June 23, 2009 | So yeah … last week pretty much was a TEST for me. Someone thought it’d be fun to pile more than ever on me to see just how strong my backbone was.
The first part of my week was just plain busy … well more than plain … more like crazy busy. Then Tuesday night came and I was too tired to cook. So I conned talked Ron into going out for Chinese food for dinner because I was too tired to whip up something fabulous for dinner.
We had a wonderful dinner at a new Chinese Restaurant that we hadn’t tried. Seemed my luck was turning … but really … not so much. I guess my first clue should have been when I got this fortune in my fortune cookie, “A thrilling time is in your immediate future.”
Oh … it was thrilling alright. :: eye roll ::
We came home and I went to the office to finish up a few things before I was “done” for the night and the office (our garage) was flooded. The water heater was leaking and we’re not talking just a little trickle. We spent the next couple of hours sopping up water.
Luckily, we do still have our home warranty. Each year we discuss whether or not it’s worth renewing it. We JUST decided we should let it ride and renew again because like poker, you gotta know when to hold them.
We called our home warranty company and they said that they would send someone out to our house the next day. So as if Wednesday wasn’t screwed enough … now the plumber was coming out. GREAT! Luckily, Ron decided to step in and deal with that portion because Cathy and I were committed to fill in for Karena on Today’s Woman radio show.
Long story short, we learned something really important which is why I’m even writing about this. The home warranty company just reports that there is a problem and the first company that responds gets the job. Sometimes you are lucky … and sometimes you are not. We got a company that was trying to screw us by charging for things that were a lie. So … things I learned about fixing a water heater in Santa Clarita:
- You don’t need to pay $200 to the plumbing company to pull the permit to replace your water heater. You can go to the City and get the permit yourself for $44. Literally, it took Ron 10 minutes to do it.
- You don’t have to have a double walled vent from the top of the water heater … the ONLY place it needs to be double is where it crosses the wall of the garage (or your foundation).
- You shouldn’t be charged to re-route a pipe for water from the side to the top of the tank to the wall … the code says that you can route it wherever the spout is on the water heater.
- You don’t HAVE to pay to dispose of the water heater when the City will come out and remove it for you for free once a year. You just have to wheel it to the curb and make a phone call to Berman to pick it up – for FREE.
- If you have any questions about the quote you received, you should take the break down on prices to the City Bldg & Safety or Works and ask to speak with a manager. They were very kind to talk to us and tell us that we were in fact being charged too much.
- You don’t HAVE to have the plumber that was quick enough to get the job do the work. Once they give the estimate to the home warranty company, you can opt to “cash out” on that item and the home warranty company will send you a check for the amount of the water heater only – the amount they were going to pay the plumbing company to purchase the water heater … but then you can have someone you trust do the job and not give any business to a business who is not 100% honest.
There are a lot of companies who lie and cheat to try to make more money because people trust them to tell them what needs to be done. I think the key is to not be afraid to ask questions … or to even pick up the phone while they are there and tell them you are calling the City to ask what the code really is. The guy that was here from a company in the Valley told us that a lot of things needed to be done because that’s “current code” and that was bullshit.
In the end, Ron and I ended up going with our friends at Plumbing by Kirk. Thanks Kirk and team – you guys ROCK! They came out and installed it without problems. They explained the charges they had for us … and confirmed that the other company was overcharging for a lot of things. I think we’re like a lot of people, we don’t mind paying for a service that needs to be done (even though we may wince as we write the check), but when we find out that we’re being screwed … it doesn’t sit well. Personally, I don’t want to do business with people who lie to create more opportunities to make money.
As I mentioned, I happened to be on air on Wednesday afternoon and shared my story when Cathy asked, “so what’s new” – haha. We received a few emails asking for help in similar situations so I thought maybe it’d be good to talk about it here too.
If you found this in a search, I hope that maybe this post will help you find your voice and not be afraid to ask the questions that you need to 
.
Posted in If I ran the zoo ..., Wine-Whine-Bitch | flood, home repair, homeowner, plumbing by kirk, Santa Clarita, Valencia, water, water heater | 3 CommentsWhen my cooking is compared to sticking your finger down your throat
Published May 10, 2009 | We had a monster blowout playdate at our house the other day and I thought I’d be all Martha and make cookies. Or kinda like Martha’s dimwitted half sister that she never wants to talk about. Cause I made the kind that come in a dough roll from the supermarket where I just have to cut the plastic wrapper without injuring myself and scrape out the gooey insides, slap dots of dough onto a cookie sheet and shove them in the oven for about 10 minutes. Foolproof, right?
Not so fast. I was also cooking some of my grandma’s macaroni and cheese for my friend who just had her girl parts yanked out, so I had to use the bottom oven for the cookies. Yes, I realize it’s kind of redundent for someone who rarely cooks to have two ovens. It’s like they are mocking me twice.
Plus, it turns out the bottom oven lies. It’s a flat out, bald faced LIAR that needs to take a dirt nap. It may say it’s 350* but don’t you believe it. Basically, I thrust my unsuspecting cookies into the fires of hell itself. And guess what? They burned. And brimstone, even chocolate brimstone, smells kinda yucky.
But they only looked burned from the bottom, so for some reason they were still sitting on the cooling rack when everyone got there. And of course, kids and cookies go hand in hand, so some of them were eaten.
And then one little boy actually choked because he put the whole cookie in his mouth at once and the cast-iron-hard burned bottom pretty much blocked his windpipe until he vomited cookie bits all over my just washed floor. Which was ok with me cause cookie vomit smell is so much easier to get out than dead little boy smell. That shit would never come out and we’d have to move. To another state. Or another planet. And I’d have to move to a new mind. Cause mine wouldn’t work right anymore. Alriiiiiight. Enough already with the dead stuff. It started out kinda funny, but now, not so much.
So we were all happy that the crisis was averted and I immediately threw the remaining burned cookies away. But then my friend looked at me and said ‘Gee Linda, I knew your cooking was bad, but I didn’t think it would actually kill someone.’ And everyone else just laughed and laughed.
I feel the need to introduce them to my bottom oven.
*Disclaimer: I have no idea if Martha actually has a sister and if she does, I have no idea what the state of her wits would be, dull, half or otherwise.
**Addendum to Disclaimer: Do you even know who Martha is?
***Second Disclaimer: I would never hurt my friends. However, I might accidently singe them a little . . . . around the mouth area.
Posted in Who's Spawn ARE you?, Wine-Whine-Bitch | cooking, daily life, family, friends, fun, humor, kids playdate | 3 Comments140 characters = why I will never be invited to a party there again
Published March 30, 2009 | I was at this party tonight with Hubunit and a bunch of people we don’t know. And they all knew each other and were the cool kids in high school. And yes, they were all wearing black and I was the only one there wearing hot pink. And no makeup. But it wasn’t tie dye, cause a girl has her limits, as I pointed out to a friend earlier in the day.
For some reason, we were talking about fixing something at our house, like changing out every door, I think. And Hubunit commented that we won’t be doing that all at once, but over the next fifteen years. Which is typical Hubunit. Cause before we moved into our new house, he promised me we could make all these changes soon after moving in. That has now evidently become the fifteen year plan. Some kind of male time vortex continu-um-whore-um.
Anyway, this led me to ask him if he’d read my last tweet on Twitter. Hub’s all, wtf is Twitter? But one of the cool guys in L.A. Black jumped in with ‘You Twitter?’ Like it was code for ’You eat your poop?’ And I was all ‘Yeah dude, on a skewer.’
And then this really nice woman in black asked me about Twitter. Like what it was and why I liked it and why not just use Facebook. ::needle scratches across the record::
Me: Twitter is limited to 140 characters. (Cause in my mind that explains alot. In her mind it didn’t.)
Her: But why use Twitter instead of Facebook?
Me: 140 characters forces you to be creative to communicate your thought.
Hubunit: Why not just send out an email with your thought?
Me: ?
Her: But why use Twitter instead of Facebook?
Me: Because Facebook is the devil. And yes, some people use Twitter to say ‘I’m going to the gym now.’ But that’s not really what it used to be all about. It used to be a cool way to send out a creative thought using only 140 characters. Just to send it out there and be, you know, creative.
Her: I was just asking.
And then the hip dude asked us if we were gonna take it outside or throw down right there and Hubunit mumbled something like, welcome to my world, and that’s when I realized I was yelling at her. In the middle of this nice party. With all these nice L.A. people wearing cool black outfits, with the right shoes and the hip hair and makeup. And I could see them looking at each other going, who is this dork in the hot pink?
So when we left, I told ‘em I was going right home to Twitter about them. And that it would be very creative.
Them:
Cause the cool kids never talk to girls like me. And I’ll be damned if I can think of anything clever to say on Twitter right now. Maybe later. After I get back from the gym.
On the plus side, while undressing tonight, I did find that big, glow-in-the-dark star Monkey was looking for earlier. Yessss. It was stuck to my ass.
Posted in Mirror Mirror on the Wall, The Land of Confusion, Wine-Whine-Bitch | daily life, facebook, friends, humor, husband, love, party conversation, twitter, Wife | 7 CommentsIt was an ordinary Thursday morning, ma’am.
Published March 27, 2009 | My house has turned into Dragnet.
Or at least monkey’s bathroom has. He has taken to jumping off the toilet after he, um, drops a deuce, throws his hands against the wall, spreads his legs and arches that little brown butt up in the air. I swear I don’t know whether to wipe him or strip search him.
I keep trying to get him to take care of this little chore by himself. I mean, he does almost everything else on his own. But for some reason, mama has the butt touch and he’s not willing to give that up. Maybe I need to start using sandpaper. That might be an incentive for him to handle his own bidnez.
Oh, and completely off track, but I feel the need to get a few things off my chest about the creatures who live in our house. I used to think I was Dr. Doolittle when I was younger. Now I know that was a dirty dream.
So, anyone else feel like their fish is channelling Van Gogh? Honestly, every time I walk past the fish bowl, that little golddigger is pressed up against the glass, with his/her mouth gaping open in a silent scream and it’s friggin’ creepin’ me out. What, little creepy fish? Are you in pain? Are you gender confused? If only you had fingers and I could teach you sign language. Listen, try morse code – eventually someone who knows morse code will come to visit and then they can interpret for us. And if the final answer is that you just really need a shot of tequila, I can help. Anything else, you’re on your own. That’s all I can think as I quickly avert my eyes and rush out of the room.
Oh, and did you hear about the Firefighter who ran into a burning house to save a man’s cats? Three of them didn’t make it, but the fourth one he resucitated by doing mouth to snout cpr. Seriously. Cat Whisperer. Take that, Cesar.
When I heard that story, I looked at Hubunit and commented that, with our luck, the one that would be rescued would be Elivs, our cockroach cat. For those newer readers, I will tell you that we pray every day for our eighteen year old, loud as hell, annoying to the point of head explosion, cat to please die. But he’s evidently made a pact with the devil to live forever. So of course, he’s the one that would draw sweet new breath into his twisted black lungs in our alternate universe. Meanwhile, we’d be in the background screaming, No, Oh No. NONONONONONONO. For the love of all that is holy, please help let him go into the light. What? He made it? Hey, thanks fuckin’ cat whisperer Firefighter dude. Spawn of the demons, unite.
This post has no logical end. Maybe because my day isn’t over yet. Plus, I think there’s a bunch of typos in here, but I have no time for spell check. It’ll eat at me, but whatever, take a number.
Funny Wine Sayings
Published February 19, 2009 | I know just about every industry has their thing – Here are some fun and funny “WINE” sayings that I have run across either in print or on T-Shirts:
Will trade Husband for Wine
Life is to short to Drink Bad Wine
How “Merlot” can you go.
In this house we only serve “fine wines” Did you bring any???
Make Me Wine
I’m Aging like Fine Wine … I’m getting Complex and Fruity!”
Wine a bit – You’ll feel better
Wine is the answer. What was the question??
I cook with wine; sometimes I even add it to the food.
Wine is the most civilized thing in the world. – Ernest Heminway
Wine makes daily living easier, less hurried, with fewer tensions and more tolerance – Benjamin Franklin
What is better than to sit at the end of a day and drink wine with friends, or substitute for friends.
And Noah he often said to his wife when he sat down to dine, ‘I don’t care where the water goes if it doesn’t get into the wine’.
“Men are like wine – some turn to vinegar, but the best improve with age” – Pope John XXIII
God made Cabernet Sauvignon, whereas the Devil made Pinot Noir.
Drinks Well With others
Check out this great web site http://www.chrisstuff.com/ – He sells fun and playful “wine saying T- shirts and accessories.
Cheers
Cathy
Snarkaloohoo
Published December 8, 2008 | I may have snarked about this before, and if I have, please forgive my snarky double dipping. I only have room in my brain for five thoughts at any given time, so you’re bound to hear a story repeated once in a while.
And I realize this is the season of giving and all that jazz. The heart is open and loving. There is suddenly room for all of mankind in our positive thoughts.
Yeah, this is from before that. The other day I was waiting in a long line at the grocery store. Waiting patiently I might add, even though monkey was bouncing off the tell-all tabloids, since we’d been running errands most of the day. And I was nervously drumming my fingers on my shopping cart, cause I was hearing Hubunit’s voice running thru my brain about spending too much money. Sheesh. Like I splurge on milk and catfood just to piss him off.
And suddenly I noticed that the woman in front of me was paying with food stamps. I fleetingly thought about how grateful I am to NOT be in that position. But. There’s always a but with me. But then I saw what she was buying and suddenly I wished that I was on food stamps. Cause her family was eating WAY better than mine. And yes, that did kinda piss me off. Not that I begrudge anyone else healthy, good food to eat. I am happy there is a program in place to help a family out. Especially since mine was that family once when I was a kid living with crazy mom. No, no. No begruding about it.
But seriously, did she have to blatantly purchase name brand expensive stuff right in front of me?
There. I’ve done it. I’m officially ashamed of myself for having such mean spirited thoughts. Lady in the store, I am so sorry for judging you harshly. I don’t know what your circumstances are. I can only imagine that your life is hard right now, so if those full price gourmet goodies help you feel better, so be it. Universe, please forgive me, for her.
I’ve recently been helping out with a charity drive monkey’s pre-school has been participating in this christmas and today we were sorting out the items the pre-school families purchased to help out other families in need. And I was humbled. In a good way. Because people’s generosity astounds me. These are people who would never have entertained the awful thoughts I did when standing behind someone taking FOREVER to use their food stamps to purchase expensive food that I can’t afford.
I have much to learn in this life. And I’d better hurry up about it, because I’m getting older and I don’t want to have to come back in my next life as a, oh, an IRS auditor. If you are an IRS auditor and you love your job, that’s great. I am not disparaging your career choice. But since I count on my fingers, that particular job would land me in the fifth ring of hell.
I’d rather come back as my cat. He has a really good life.
Posted in The Land of Confusion, The Root of All Evil, Wine-Whine-Bitch | charity, christmas season, daily life, food stamps, humor, husband, karma, kids, love, stingy grinch | 6 Comments
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