Cheese and Thank You
And I still have all that cheese. Last week started off like a blindfolded bronco ride through the darkest regions of Hell, but I somehow managed to survive. First I got sick or had an allergy attack or pissed off some local witch who put the horns on me, but whatever it was, I started coughing and sneezing and dragging myself through life like I was half-dead. It sucks to be sick, of course, and it sucks even harder to get sick in the summer, my favorite time of year when I like to think I have temporary immunity all those nasty germs and viruses just waiting to lay me low as soon as the mercury goes south. And what made things worse was the fact that I was scheduled to do a reading with my most wonderful writing class on Thursday. My sister was coming to watch and one of my classmates was zooming in from her new home in Tucson for God’s sake. And now I get sick? But the real Horatio Hornblower of the week was when my local laundromat, where I’ve been going for years, lost ...