Miss Begotten is one of my pet names for myself, for Southern Gothic reasons best kept to myself. Miss Begotten tries to speak plainly, but sometimes she tends to babble -- parenthetically, of course. It's never my intention to offend (and usually that's true - except on those [maybe not so] rare occasions when I mean it very friggin' much) but it sometimes happens, so if you're unusually easily offended...
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Countdown
One of these days, I hope to have time to stop and smell the flowers. It won't be this week. Or next. I've been working my hump off and still taking two steps backwards for every step forward. Sooner or later, something's going to have to give.
Today, I'm not worrying about it. It's Hump Day. Happy, Happy!
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4 comments:
Countdown to What?
To the weekend, Mr. G. These days, I live for them.
The smell of flowers reminds me of funeral homes. I'm afraid if I stop too long, they'll surround me and my casket. So instead, I'm planning my rocket mission to your launch pad (a.k.a. - The Red Planet) for my own countdown to liftoff.
I'm not having any of that casket stuff, Pugsley, so I prefer to have my flowers now, before liftoff.;)
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