I think I may have run out of things to write about.
I mean, unless you want to hear about my trip to the post office and the grocery store (Ooh… exciting!), my application for medical assistance (yes, because I am that poor… did you not get the memo that I substitute teach for a “living”?), or the fact that Winston is so depressed he can’t even get excited about catnip anymore (really?)… there’s not much to say.
And yet… I feel compelled to say something… anything just to say I posted today.
But then that puts you, the reader, into a precarious situation, because quite frankly, you don’t care.
Am I right? You know I’m right, because you’re not caring right now.
And yet, you do care, because you took the time to read through this incredibly pointless post.
Thanks for caring, friend. I couldn’t have asked for a better person to waste their time on my stupidity. You’re the best.