I was sick in bed all weekend. Saturday I slept the day away. Sunday I moved a little. By Monday I was bored out of my mind. Bored in my bedroom. After several doctors appointments and picking up more medication that is suppose to knock you out but makes me hyper, I couldn’t get this bottle open.
For the children.
And apparently for the helpless.
I tried forever and ever and ripped my hand open.
And yes that’s a gross kleenex.
And my hand looks like gross elephant skin.
So anyway, I gave up and thought through several action plans:
Plan A – Wait until my husband gets home in 2 hours to help the helpless.
But that was forever 2 hours away.
And I’m about to cough my guts out.
So I thought:
Plan B – Ask crabby neighbor guy. But then I’d have to go outside. And walk next door. In my pajamas.
So … umm … I then thought (I apologize now):
Plan C – Shower, makeup, brush my hair, nicer pajamas and call the police and tell them I think I swear I thought I saw a Peeping Tom.
And while explaining … Oh I don’t know. I think he was about 6′ tall, wearing all black with a mask on. He was really scary though. I only think I saw him for .0001 seconds. But I can’t be too sure. I’ve been really sick. And weak. And helpless. And I can’t get this darn silly bottle open.
Officer friendly to the helpless: Can I help with that?
Have a good day all … and if you’ve never thought before I am in serious need of medication … I’m sorry that you think it now.