A few days ago I was changing a light bulb when the old one slipped through my fingers, hit the floor and shattered into a thousand pieces. I swept it up and wore shoes in that room for a few days. Wouldn't you know it, today I was walking through that room when lo and behold I stepped on a piece of glass. Fudge, fudge, fudge no matter how I put down my foot it hurt my boo-boo. So I hobbled over to my flashlight, then waddled over to my glasses then gimped over to the bathroom because it has good light. I contorted myself into a rather dodgy position to see the sole of my foot then shined the light on it. There on the heel was the offending piece of glass. Did I go get the tweezers? Nay. I am the woman who did half of her own root canal. I am the skydiver who jumps from airplanes. I am going to be a bad-ass and yank it out myself. So I started the ceremony of flicking it with my finger. Yeah, no, didn't work. Next I used the nails of my thumb and swear finger to pick the glass right out of the foot. After several failed attempts the shimmering, blood tipped shard slipped out easily, albeit rather maladroitly. I am the boss! I am the mouse who pulled the thorn from the lion's paw! I am the one who just dropped it back on the floor. Aw, crap. Here we go again. Daughter, hand me the broom.
Go ahead, laugh at me.
I recently read an article on Facebook Envy. Apparently some people get really depressed because they see all these wonderful pictures on other people's pages and start to see themselves as inadequate. I had to laugh. Whereas I do post things about my family of whom I am immensely proud, the majority of the stuff on my FB page is a bunch of schlock that I barf out of my brain. Or as I like to call it, cerebral emesis. Most of the posts are about my questionable choices and face-palm moments. Who else would post about pulling a shard of glass from your foot only to drop it back on the floor never to be found again, or the mysterious yet gross thing my dog dragged in the house and dropped on my bedspread? In fact, I would bet your house on the fact people come here to feel BETTER about themselves. My peeps don't come here to feel jealous, they come here to feel superior and l̶a̶u̶g̶h̶ ̶a̶t̶ ̶m̶e̶ laugh with me. So I pause for you to read the article posted below,The 6 Stages of F...
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