It’s late on this rainy Thursday night, late for me. 10:20pm. And the truth is my left ear has a terrible ache, so terrible that I’m contemplating taking myself to the ER. But we all know what kind of night that would be. Bright lights. Interminable wait. Even after meeting all the nice people when *Dad was in there two weeks ago, I just can’t do it. It’s not like I want to have a reunion with Nurse Louise, no matter how sweet she was.
All week long I’ve been closing out emails to friends with, don’t let the bastards get you down. I guess I’ve had the feeling that an army of bastards was infiltrating Monroe County. Does an earache qualify as a bastard? Right now I’m thinking, yes. But an even bigger question that’s plaguing this writer is, is earache one word or two? It looks weird either way.
So, troops, I’m going to make some Sleepytime tea, pop some Tylenol, and wrap myself up in “pinky”, the old blanket Mom gave me years ago. And pray that this bastard is gone by morning.
see *Run Like Hell