Well, I’ve Vastly Revised Down My List of Things To Do Today

I’m laying here waiting for the doctor to call me back since, due to girly problems the likes of which I hope to never, ever experience again, I can’t really manage much but bed and bathroom.  And a good self-pity cry.

Here is my new list for today:

1.  Rent a truck.

2.  Arrange for someone to clean this place next week.

3.  Take the TV remote to the new house before the cable guy gets there.

4.  Nothing.

That’s it.  Just three things, unless I have to get to the doctor’s.  In which case I will add that to my list at the top.  I am laying here pondering the financial mess our country is in.  I have nothing astute to say about it.  Just that I’m holding my breath to see what comes of it.  It is a little amazing to me that, after years of being told that the economy is just fine, now we’re being told we must immediately bail out the economy right now no questions asked, immunity for everyone, everyone gets to continue being rich.

The rich, you see, get to be socialists.  We must be left to the vagaries of a free market.

Edited to add: Ibuprophen.  If that doesn’t help, I have to go in tomorrow for lab work.

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We’re Only a Day Away

So I was all primed to come and write a great post on the fourth anniversary of Tiny Cat Pants when I went to look at my first post, just to take stock of how far I’d come (or not), I see that I actually started blogging on the 23rd of September, not the 22nd.

Oops.

Still, four years.  Who’d have thought I’d have that much to say?