I said to Marilyn, "It's gonna be fun." She looked at me like she forgot that I'm that little teeny bit left of center and said, "It's not going to be fun." About 2 seconds later, she corrected herself. "If anyone could have fun, it's you two."
What does it cost to stay on the Lido deck?
I worked my ass off on purpose yesterday. I wanted to be extra tired. On my way home from work, I was thinking about those people who have dogs who are about to be put down and they make videos about all the cool things they do with the dog on it's last day.
I started thinking. Hmmm, what would my thyroid like to do on it's last day of work. I started by eating a bag of Skittles while driving through the entire West Side with the windows rolled down(okay not all the windows)and cranking these tunes.
We had a BIG SALAD for dinner last night. Because of all of these intestinal challenges*-so to speak, we've been riding the salad train almost every night. Avocado, a teeny bit of crumbled blue cheese, green olives and some ranch. Deeeeeelicious as my Mother would say. (She also said Deeeeeepression, but that's a story for another day.)
Also my fantabulous cocktail. Frozen raspberries, sparkling water, a splash of Mixed Fruit flavored Italian Soda and ice. (Miralax* optional).
Worked at the library this morning-had some fun. After, I went upstairs because the third floor of the library is like my church. (Don't get too excited. I have a lot of churches that aren't churches.) Early this morning, P said, "You better get some books." because he knows me now and so I did.
I've been touching my neck more than usual and at one point I was like hey Philip, kiss my neck. (I think the giving and receiving of these daily injections kind of encourage you to be more...what's the word...amorous? Woo.) Anyway, he did and I 'bout lost my mind laughing and then coughing and then we had to stop.
I also told him that in case of my demise, I want him to get married(or whatever)again but not to _______ and not to _______. Because your thyroid gets to say jerky shit on it's last few days.
I had a spectacular lunch. Excellent bread-open faced-one half seafood salad, the other half some eye round with pickles, salt and pepper and the finest potato chips known to man.
On my way back into condoland, I ran into a woman who-I swear-pickle juice runs through her veins. She is the definition of acerbic. It was like the 2 seconds I let my guard down. I guess she exists to make everyone else look spectacular and she does a fine job of that. I'm sorry I exposed my thyroid to her on it's very last day.
No hard feelings.
No food after midnight, no water five hours before. Thanks for everything. See ya on the other side.