It's Tuesday, but really Monday

Apparently I did not get the memo that the morning was going to turn to shit.  I woke up and enjoyed an extra few minutes of ear-rubbing with Kasia.  With a healthy dose of dog hair in my eyes and mouth, I thought to myself, "It's going to be a good day."  Wrong.

Maybe I'm not cut-out to deal with certain things however, today's bullshit meter is running in overdrive.  The general public is dumb and I have been reminded for the 8,456th time.  I wonder if it's too late to drive home, slap on some sweatpants and resume ear rubbing?



To soothe my chapped ass, I ingested half of a bagel, which seems to be doing the trick.  With the wedding hovering just 2 months away, I need to do a gut/ass/fat check and keep my piehole shut.  If my random instant stomach explosions keep up, I should be good to go.



I think I need a daily dose of Greta Fat Pants.  She is soft, porky, has sweet hair and holding her is like taking a Xanax.