And that's $85 please... Seriously, this no-therapy thing is saving me money. I can afford my new prescription reading glasses! Not that I'm glad, but...
Anyway, today is about just finding funny things to laugh about... That's the therapy. Find your favorite comedian on YouTube or Netflix. Re-watch the fail videos where every single skateboarder cracks his own nuts and seems surprised to discover gravity works (Hubby loves those, it's weird). Give catnip to cats and just watch the show. (Don'te ven need to be *your* cats, btw!)
Or, in my case, watch and wonder as a squirrel digs up a square foot of yard in search of a nut that isn't there. (Or if it was, someone ate it.) He was very methodical, for a rodent. All I initially saw was this gray fluffy squirrel tail sticking out of the periwinkle. Moving about fluffy and gray in the sea of green and the dainty pale blossoms like some odd parody of a shark fin in water. Or a submarine periscope. In any case, old Skippy the Squirrel there did *not* succeed, and abandoned the search. Still gave me a good grin.
Just... laugh. Evne if you can't laugh out loud from pain or coughs (Ida, I forbid your chest to hrut, tell it I said so) or b/c some twit is nearby and will look at you oddly (I mention no spouses, but I lash my puma tail at any who dare tread on the toes of our Fibro friends....) or b/c you are just too da*n tired to manage a laugh aloud.... Find a smile/grin/laugh today.
BBCAnimalsTalkVideo (Best if you like British humor)
And now, all the bad dumb facepalming jokes I could find, b/c Hubby loves these:
---the last thing my grandpa said to me before he kicked the bucket was.... "How far do you think I can kick a bucket?"
---the vulture tried to board his flight with two dead raccoons, but the stewardess reminded him that there's a one carrion limit. (*cringe*)
---(From Hubby's Sunday School days): "ANd the Lord said to John 'Come forth', but John came fifth, and only got a toaster". (This cracks up Hubby for reasons that I really don't grasp.)
---How do you find a needle in a haystack? Set the hay on fire. (Hubby snort-laughed when he said this just now. OMG. He's twelve!)
---Why can't you solve murders in West Virginia? (OK, I am taking this as dictation from my husband, blame him, not me, oh crap...) All the DNA matches. (I'm gonna kill him. I have family in West Virginia._)
OK, I am *not* doing this anymore. Seriously... I ask him for good one-liners for the Fibro check-in, he's Mr. Funny until *now*?! I mean, c'mon, not even the really old tired one about "My mother had a personal chef. Dinty Moore." (You have to be a certain age to get that one, anyway...)
Tomorrow is Saint Patrick's Day! Get your Shamrock Shakes while you can! (McDonald's, mint, milkshake-ish, the only time of year I go there, don't ask.) Prepare for people to claim they're Irish enough to celebrate a holiday that the US makes a much bigger deal of than Ireland, as an excuse to get drunk, act more idiotic than usual, and dye everything green. Or, y'know, just shrug and say, "I think Great-Gran from Dublin will understand if I just get on with my life...." (True, btw, about my great-gran from Dublin. I think she was kicked out of Ireland, to be honest. Woman had the morals of a.... uh.... OK, what am I going to end up insulting?... OK, she had morals, but they were negotiable after a few drinks. There. I managed to be accurate and not terribly graphic. For once.)
History today was all gore and gunk, which is typical, but this one stood out: In 1871, the US state of Delaware established the first fertilizer law. (?!) Yep, they mandated accurate labeling, under the statutes about state chemists and licensing thereof. So you knew what you were getting. This sounds minor, but was a huge step forward for consumer protection and agriculture, as it meant you knew you were using fertilizer appropriate for the crops. Interesting to note, Delaware's biggest industry these days is being a really great place for banks to headquarter b/c of the regulatory and tax and incorporation laws. Like, you can basically incorporate there with a blink of an eye, operate anywhere else in the US, and it's all good. Weird, but true.
Off to phone Mom and make sure she takes her antibiotics and so on. She wouldn't go to the doc, no no no, until her eardrum was nearly ready to rupture from infection. Niiiiiice. Then, we get there, and the doc was sitting in her office, at the computer, I *asw* her, at appointment time.... 25 minutes later, I tell Hubby, loudly, "Give me your phone! I'm calling 911 for Mom! She needs help!" and suddenly.... Doctor appears! I introduced myself as "the attack daughter". *evilgrin* And then more soup for mom. And and and the usuals, y'all know how it goes.
Blessings, hugs, cuddles, and may your day be *easy*!
I thought some of us might find this NY Times article interesting and validating. It's about the reasons that victims of "sexual misconduct" sometimes aren't believed, due to common misconceptions.The word "article" above has a link but here's the URL in case that doesn't work:https://www.nytimes.com/2017/11/30/us/sexual-harassment-weinstein-women.html
Good morning. I saw the physio-rehab doc finally yesterday. He relocated two ribs (ow!) and did a bit of acupressure on my neck (ah!) and then he went in to continue the years-long battle against twisty-turned pelvic scar tissue. Which was so twisty-turny, as it happens, my lower abdomen was carrying tons of strain. Feels like I did about 500 sit-ups/tilts. Ouch. But the scar tissue let go of the...