Charles is Home.
Charles came home from the hospital today, weak as a kitten, coughing impressively, but well into the land of the living.
This may be my cue to fall apart.
Bad poetry is coming into my head a lot, probably inspired by the demented _Zombie Haiku_ by Ryan Mecum. Get it, as long as you won't blame me too much afterward.
Sometimes I wonder--
If I chew off my own wrist,
Will I escape, too?
On a happier note...uh, give me a moment...oh, yes. Charles' Mom is supposed to go to rehab today. The sun is shining. Prophecy is in 17 days. My trip to Texas is in 4 months. My next cruise is in 6 months and 28 days, give or take an hour. I didn't shave my head. No meteors have fallen on the house.
This may be my cue to fall apart.
Bad poetry is coming into my head a lot, probably inspired by the demented _Zombie Haiku_ by Ryan Mecum. Get it, as long as you won't blame me too much afterward.
Sometimes I wonder--
If I chew off my own wrist,
Will I escape, too?
On a happier note...uh, give me a moment...oh, yes. Charles' Mom is supposed to go to rehab today. The sun is shining. Prophecy is in 17 days. My trip to Texas is in 4 months. My next cruise is in 6 months and 28 days, give or take an hour. I didn't shave my head. No meteors have fallen on the house.
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