Today didn’t quite turn out like I planned.
It appears that the bug I’ve been fighting for the past couple weeks has started its second push. I started to feel crappy around lunch and once the lymph nodes started to ache, I knew things weren’t going well. I managed to make it through the day and I’m hoping that I feel better tomorrow. Many thanks to Angela for her taking care of me and making dinner when she’s been feeling pretty crappy herself.
I called in sick to work this morning. I’m over at the Minute Clinic now waiting to be checked out. It’s time I found out if the ear infection is back or if I have some other crud.
The show was fantastic! I’m glad we decided to go.
Haven’t been feeling too hot the past couple days. I left work early today and came home to sleep for a few hours. Later I got up and moved to the couch to work on some comics. I missed yesterday’s, but at least tomorrow’s is done and scheduled. Need to get some rest so I can kick this crud before the weekend.
I don’t give a damn what you like, as long it brings you happiness and does not destroy you.
I’ve discovered my biggest challenge to growth and success over the long term is myself.
From an article here, pretty amusing.
Dear Pat Robertson,
I know that you know that all press is good press, so I appreciate the shout-out. And you make God look like a big mean bully who kicks people when they are down, so I’m all over that action.
But when you say that Haiti has made a pact with me, it is totally humiliating. I may be evil incarnate, but I’m no welcher. The way you put it, making a deal with me leaves folks desperate and impoverished.
Sure, in the afterlife, but when I strike bargains with people, they first get something here on earth — glamour, beauty, talent, wealth, fame, glory, a golden fiddle. Those Haitians have nothing, and I mean nothing. And that was before the earthquake. Haven’t you seen “Crossroads”? Or “Damn Yankees”?
If I had a thing going with Haiti, there’d be lots of banks, skyscrapers, SUVs, exclusive night clubs, Botox — that kind of thing. An 80 percent poverty rate is so not my style. Nothing against it — I’m just saying: Not how I roll.
You’re doing great work, Pat, and I don’t want to clip your wings — just, come on, you’re making me look bad. And not the good kind of bad. Keep blaming God. That’s working. But leave me out of it, please. Or we may need to renegotiate your own contract.
Best, Satan
LILY COYLE, MINNEAPOLIS