It is a depressing day, and you’re going to sit in it with me. They say if you don’t have something nice to say, say nothing, but sometimes, it’s more therapeutic to give in to it.
I’m sick, hubs is sick. He got some meds and a half-assed diagnosis, but I’m going to go ahead and officially call it strep. Swollen, swollen throats and glands and aches all over. No fun.
Tomorrow, on March 26th, there will be a blizzard, complete with hurricane force winds. I can only hope that as usual, the entire city will shut down and my sick guy doesn’t have to go out in it and attempt to lecture without a voice.
While we were in our cold meds-induced nap time, a truck that didn’t have it’s parking brake on from across the street rolled down the driveway and smashed into our car, parked on the street.
Ralph Wilson died. It’s not that he died, the man was 95 years old and clearly led a full, meaningful life, but it’s the fact that our poor little Buffalo Bills team probably won’t be with our city for much longer. Their badge of shame is one I wear proudly. I will be really, really sad if they are bought and move. Our one true hope, hall of famer Jim Kelly, is battling his second bout of cancer. He needs a miracle.
All of that, plus it’s Tuesday. I thought it was Wednesday.
Hey, they can’t all be uplifting. Do I have your sympathy vote yet? That’s totally what I was going for.