So I woke up feeling awful, stumbled to the coffee pot, then asked Ron, “Did you see if it was a bus or a truck?” He hadn’t of course, my kitty said he was too busy directing traffic. At first I felt certain that I’d been run over in my sleep. Surely, this is how mud feels when it’s been pressed down and compacted in a huge tire track. Some days, it seems, really are meant to teach you to count your blessings and remember that it can always be worse.
No sooner had I started doing an image search for ‘muddy tires’ than I received a sudden, urgent summons to the bathroom. Honestly? I have always been diarrhetic. Over the years I’ve heard of course about people who suffer from constipation, though to me the idea of being able to wait several days before having to evacuate one’s bowels sounds quite appealing. I believe I lost about ten pounds in the bathroom just now.
I find myself wishing today that I had diarrhea of the mouth rather than the other kind. If only I could wax eloquently about feces for a third paragraph. It would keep this post to one topic. I’m sure Erma Bombeck could pull it off and have everyone rolling in the aisles on this third graph. Sadly, while I can often make people laugh, I find it almost impossible to just write something funny if that is what I have set out to do. I really do envy my humorist friends who can crank out post after post with a minimum of one belly laugh and three giggles per paragraph. On the other hand, if medical science ever advances to a point that I can trade my runny bowels for a lesser sense of humor…..I am SO signing up for that.