Petunia rambles on and on….

is the only word right now. 

My husband thinks that anyone who laughs until they cry, repeatedly, has something really wrong with them.  And cry, I did, until I couldn’t lift my head from the table. The more I tried to stop, the worse it got, as usual. He also can’t deal with women who, uh, need to change their clothes frequently.

He is not yet over my “I theeenk I need a biiiiiger box” issues of 1999.

I got the latest Despair catalog in the mail yesterday  I tried to pick out 12-14, and I can’t do it. I guess he’s right. There is something wrong with me.

I’m knitting at work.  I can do two things at once, especially when one of them requires mostly listening, thinking and talking.  And the other is knitting. Or peeing. When I have to key, it’s almost always numbers, right-handed, and I’m a Continental knitter, so it’s all good.

Except that I’m on the north side of the building, and the sunlight is streaming in the SOUTH side of the building.  It’s either dimly lit in here OR the overhead flourescent tubes make it awful damn glarey. And I’m working with a dark color, too.

Oh, am I missing my Ott-lites at home. They compensate for the one eye that won’t open up the way it should! But it would look pretty strange hauling one in here everyday. Almost as strange as when I pull shift-work now and again, and bring a spinning wheel!

Sorry – I can’t take credit for this.

I read it on Facebook, posted by long-time friend Tony; we go all the way back to high school days in Florida – the now torn down (I think? from the satellite pictures on Google Maps, it doesn’t look like it’s there anymore) PBSHS !!.  Thank you, Mr. Brown, for the good laugh.

 

Facebook – Where Ozzie and Harriet meet Ozzy Osbourne.

 

I hate it when you hear stuff or read stuff like that, and it makes the beer come out your nose. Such a waste.