I don’t know how else to start this post other than by saying that the most dehumanizing part of a cold is to have to really get in touch with your bodily secretions over and over and over again. Granted: a cold is among the more benign things that can happen to a person, really. But it is also lengthy and constantly inconvenient; it can be accompanied by pain, chills (okay so maybe it was a flu, but still), depression, crankiness and enough whining to put Sonoma county to shame (bad joke).
Maybe colds are sent to us as a gentle reminder that health is precious and usually taken for granted.
Despite the tail-end of The Cold From Hell, a lovely weekend was had by the Meow household. There was food, merriment, and the discovery of as-yet unexpired coupons that can still be used AND seem to have usefulness. Swiftly on the heels of said discovery, a couple of surfaces reappeared around the kitchen as well (“oh…. so THAT is what the counter looks like!”). There is still much donating and recycling to be done, but domestic chores are swiftly moving along. Fear not, morning-challenged people: this is not one of those Mondays. I’m still kinda feeling sorry and icky, but things are moving along.
But it is a morning in November, and somehow things tend to progress at a slower rate this time of year. Maybe it’s something to do with the holidays that will soon follow, or maybe it’s the winter chill setting in –though I wonder if the summer heat justifies the torpor around this time of year for E 🙂 and her people of the future? (Glad you’re doing well back home, E!)
Looking out the window a couple of days ago, I suddenly felt like I was staring old age right in the face. I realize now that trees have a violent way of switching from looking lively to nearly dead very soon– something I am not quite used to seeing. I can see how both autumn and old age can be horribly devastating, but I’m also realizing that I’ve lived on the brink of autumn most of my life, weather-wise. I’ve been reaping the benefits of eternally cool and crisp temperatures without paying the piper. Disregard the last paragraph if it makes no sense: it barely makes sense to me.
On a completely unrelated note, the wise and caustic juggernaut that is Violent Acres is looking for a catchphrase. In some ways this strikes me as funny (but not funny ha-ha): here is someone who pretty much feels like she can size people up and hold up the ugly mirror so they can see all their flaws and then some; however she is asking her public –possibly mostly composed of people who want to see her fail in moderate to extreme degrees– to neatly hold a mirror up to her for a catchphrase? A catchphrase, which is kind of a summary of how you want to be perceived is what she is tossing up out there so people can oblige. Is that genius, or is it a deep-seated insecurity?
I’m no PR wizard, but I’ll give it a crack. I think her catchphrase should be, “Violent Acres: Sowing Scruples and Reaping Shitstorms.” That way, if people misread they can think the site is even more horrible than it is.