What a morning.
I ask you, have you ever had one of those days when you realize pretty early on you probably should have stayed in bed longer? Or maybe not gotten up at all?
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Category Archives: Humor
Bucket List #12
Guess where I ended up a couple weeks ago?
I found myself in a police station – a most unfamiliar locale to me (I’m happy to say). And I bet I know what you’re thinking:
a) What did she do?
b) Who did she do it to?
c) Is she writing this while out on bail?
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The Gift That Keeps On Taking
I loath insurance companies.
There, I said it. And to be honest, I doubt I’m alone in my repugnance. Because really, who hasn’t been screwed by their insurance provider? And I use the word provider rather loosely. I think the more appropriate term should be Rip-Off-Artists, hence to be known herein as ROAs.
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A Leap of Faith
So I’ve been writing my Sunday blog for exactly a year now and I’ve learned something: I made a mistake when I started. And what might that be? Well, for some reason I thought I needed to post 5 blogs all at once to kick off Now Don’t Get Me Wrong. But I was wrong.
Turns out literally 10 people saw the 4 blogs following my first post. I presumed folks would be so enthralled with my writing, they’d read beyond the first one. Again, wrong. If you weren’t one of the devoted 10, I forgive you. Now here’s your chance to redeem yourself…
While my three friends and I huddled on the cold steel floor of the single engine Cessna, I struggled to remember what possessed me to want to hurl myself from an airborne metal tube. 
Now don’t get me wrong; I’m not crazy. At least I think I’m not. But still, I seriously questioned my sanity while checking my parachute pack for the tenth time. My curiosity was not based on its technical construction but simply to confirm that it was still on my back. Continue reading
When Good Backs Go Bad
My back when out a couple weeks ago. Where it went, I’m not sure. But it’s out and it isn’t in a big hurry to come back.
I’ve been lifting more than usual lately and not the beneficial kind of lifting, like at the gym. No, I’m lifting gargantuan wired cages and cat traps for our nonprofit cat rescue, Marin Friends of Ferals. (Yes, it’s a shameless plug.)
The scene of the crime happened in my garage. While lifting my twelfth trap, I felt a searing pain shoot through my lower back and thought: Have I been stabbed? Then I said (to nobody in particular, since I was alone), “Oh, that’s not good.” Continue reading
Now Don't Get Me Wrong 