The simplest, most mindless tasks present a daunting challenge these days. Last night, for instance, I decided to make mashed potatoes for about the billionth time. Duh, right? Wrong, I nearly lost a fingertip peeling the damn things. Blood went flying, so did half my fingernail along with some very colorful language.
Quick like a bunny, I began to administer first aid. Something else I’ve done on a billion or more occasions, but could I apply a basic bandage? I could not, look at it. My best, most dedicated effort wound up looking like the Unknown Comic. You know, the guy who wore a bag on his head. Neither of them are funny. Not the comedian and not the bandage.
Well, that’s it. The end.
I’ve had enough of being clumsy and forgetful and tired, I’ve had enough of being dizzy and cranky and hot. And, most of all, I’ve had enough of this damn blunk (blog funk). I sit here for hours every day banging my head on the monitor, trying to dislodge a well-written sentence or a clever turn of phrase, but I can’t. I wind up deleting entire posts and re-writing and revising and re-doing. Arrrggh.
It’s time to put a stop to this. So I’m off to the endocrinologist to find out if my thyroid is finally and completely out of commission. Wish me luck.
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