Well I survived Chez Brag. And it was a good time. I arrived home as if I had never been gone. I thought, why are the dogs acting so weird. However, I didn't escape bodily injury while on vacation. I was jet skiing and then I hit my head on the tip of... in actuality on the way out, my damn trunk-hatch, didn't open all the way, or fell slightly, and yes, like a dumbass I ran right into the tip of it and gave myself an inch! gash on the top of my head, drew blood and now can credit myself with a minor concussion. (Throughout the day it just would start to pulse.) Now those are high times! And as I saw the blood seeping into my blonde-d hair I thought, I wonder how long i can wait to dye it with a head wound. Plus I'm seeing more grey in the roots. Not a lot-but they are there. And then I felt sorry for all the head injuried people of the world- it's such a sensitive spot. Luckily I didn't black out and do myself some real damage. Plus Brag wouldn't approve of blood on the cement. He's a bit of a germ-phob. In related news, I left a plate in the sink and put water in it and when I put a glass in the same sink I saw that a roach had met its demise there. Should I tell them? Then all I could think about was how many roaches over night had been there and as I narrowed my eyes, and glanced left to right, I wondered how much tracking did it do all over the allegedly clean greenish tiles-Recently I watched something on the Discovery Channel about how clean is clean and you'd be surprised how dirty "clean" houses can be. Made me not feel so bad about my dingy abode and I symphatized because until we shoved some boric acid down some cracks we'd get some big creepies at night. As if that was all I could endure, to encounter a giant legged thing- which were sometimes sluggish enough to kill. I swoon. I bait my breath.
Besides that I'll admit my life can't be all that boring if subconsciously I'm willing to run into things for a story. Now that's commitment.
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