More Random Rants

Reason to be thankful:

My ferret Mimi is very old and very ill. My vet recommends a specialist. I call for directions but genius that I am, (I drew a map to get to my high school classes), I get lost anyway. An hour later I’m on the expressway and dead on empty. Mimi continually escapes from her carry box and I fight to keep driving as she crosses over my neck and onto the floor of the vehicle. I frantically imagine squashing her under the brake peddle or even worse, meeting my death in an overturned car because the brake peddle won’t work due to ferret blockage. What would the police report say? I imagine the scene as they remove my body and a tiny furry carcass from the scene. Will we each have our own stretcher? I finally discover a gas station and coast in on the remaining fuel fumes in my tank, secure the ferret, pump the gas and say breathlessly to the attendant. “I’ve been riding around lost for over an hour with a sick ferret crawling all over me in the car!”

She drones without expression, “That will be five dollars.”

I think, “Geez! At least I’ve got a working brain stem!”

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And the sensitivity award goes to:

I tell my chronically well-off sister that as the Monday after Thanksgiving approaches I’m fighting deep depression, knowing that it will be another week of not knowing what to do next to secure a job. She replies, “I’m getting depressed too because I have so much to do. We’re breaking ground on another new building tomorrow and we have to close the deal on some more land! I’m so busy I don’t know how I’ll ever get the time to do all the Christmas shopping.”

Well that cheered me up!

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The commercial voiceover states: “There is only one Grand Canyon.”
“There is only one first kiss.”

Yes, but there is also only one first kiss in the Grand Canyon! So that blows that theory.

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A commercial for stomach antacid, Depends, or some such product shows two middle-aged married women saying good-bye to their loving families and going on a whitewater rafting girls’ weekend. The guides are young male hunks; camping is even involved, and they wait on the women hand and foot! “What the hell kind of married women’s vacation is that?!” shouts my husband from his lounge chair.

I don’t know, but I intend to investigate.

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I went to a luncheon of high achievers -- lawyers, painters, with children in medical school and the Peace Corp. I guess I was invited as the welfare guest. They speak of their homes in Argentina, summers in France, and a tour of Bangladesh. I, on the other hand, am about to lose my home and my son probably won’t graduate from high school this year! One of the women described her life and then said, “I actually envy myself!” At that point, my brain froze and I may have begun to drool. At least my temporary coma prevented me from committing a violent act.

@@@@@@@@@@@*****!!!!