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Woodchucking.

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I have a pretty bad cold. I have been hard core sneezing all day. Which sucks.

I have a new laptop with a big screen, so I can write again. Which is nice.

The keys on the keyboard seem smaller than average or off center, so I am always placing my hands on the wrong keys like this – ehivh divld. Which sucks.

I was excited to find a bag of icing-coated animal crackers in the closet and I am shoving them into my mouth. Which is nice.

I cannot taste them. Which sucks.

I also found a bag of baby carrots in the fridge and put some into a bowl to substitute the icing fest, thinking since I cannot taste anything I might as well eat something healthy. Which is nice.

It turns out that even when I cannot taste something I will still eat the fattening crap. Which sucks.

I just sneezed four huge sneezes in a row and my brand new laptop launched off the couch and did not explode. Which is nice.

I am out of tissue, so I am alternating using one-ply, magician’s evaporating toilet paper and razor wire, er, paper towels, to wipe my nose. Which sucks.

I am super happy that Fall is coming to the Chicagoland area. It is my favorite season of the year. Which is nice.

Fall only lasts fourteen hours in the Chicagoland area. Which sucks.

I love libraries and I returned seven overdue books to our newly renovated library, and sat and listened to music. Which is nice.

The fines I have forked over for overdue library books over the past two years paid for the new library renovations. Which sucks.

I needed to do laundry tonight. But instead I did not. Which is nice.

Tomorrow at work I will be annoyed all day that I have to keep pulling up my last-resort-granny-panties because I did not do laundry. Which sucks.

Earlier at the gym I watched Sean Hannity make himself look like a tool yet again by discussing the insidious evil behind Miley Cyrus’ twerking. Which is nice.

My brain has retained the word “twerking” and I used it in a sentence. Which sucks.

I have decided to discontinue the use of razor wire in wiping my nose, so the searing pain in my face has lessened. Which is nice.

I am dangerously close to being out of toilet paper and may seriously have to start using leftover, blue birthday crepe paper streamers to blow my nose. Which sucks.

I have written several dumb, filler posts just so that I get my money’s worth for buying this blog’s domain name, and this is the dumbest one by far. But I wrote something – and it makes my poor little pestilence ridden body happy that I wrote anything at all. Which is nice.

Tomorrow I will regret that this hunk of lard is out there on the interwebs and associated with me in any way. Which sucks.

Still, I am going to completely disregard my own pride and hit publish, trusting that the next thing I write will not include words that mean furiously gyrating the hips to simulate the sex act with a teddy bear. Which is nice.

Ears plugged up now. I cannot taste, smell or hear. Only my Mr. Magoo vision and carpel tunnelized sense of touch remain. Crepe paper everywhere. Blue??…You’re my Boy, Blue!! Disorientation and panic setting in. God. The panic. The end is nigh. Which sucks.

I am still laughing because earlier I wrote “which shucks” instead of which sucks. That made me think of whichshucks, and then woodchucks and then about how much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood, and that made me think of the commercial with woodchucks chucking wood into the water and, I don’t know. It just seemed…funny. Yes, okay. Time for me to snuggle up fully vertical for optimal nasal drainage – with my lover Nyquil. That is his last name if you want to Google him. He knows what I like.

Which is nice.

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