That’s the weather.
Look down. Waaaay down.
That’s me, all 5’2″ of me.
See? I’m under the weather.
The antibiotics I’m popping for my 179th bladder infection of the year are messing with my head and making me type stupid things.
And no, I do not make a habit of munching on cipro 24/7/365, for all you smarties out there wondering how this post differs from any other post I’ve written.
I thought it best to curtail my writing today so that I don’t wind up writing something I’ll regret later … you know, when I’m actually lucid.
Instead, I’ll ask you guys to answer a question I tweeted last week. The responses on Twitter were enlightening, I must say. And occasionally scary. You know who you are.
I absolutely love to find out stuff about my readers. More than once, I find myself shouting OH MY GOD, I KNOW, RIGHT? at my monitor when I read your comments and more than once, my kids tell me that I need to get out of the house more.
Ponder this, if you will, while I go pee for the 19th time this morning:
When you are home alone, do you shut the door when you go to the bathroom?
I’ll fess up … YOU BETCHA. Just because I’m paranoid doesn’t mean they’re not after me with bionic eyes and a camcorder with a monster zoom lens. I live in fear of YouTube.