So I’m crawling out from under the bed – my, how you’ve changed since I’ve been gone! You’ve got that new haircut and, hey, wait a minute, have you lost weight?
Hey, I’ve got a new haircut, too! I did it in my bathroom, with an old pair of Fiskars! No, just kidding, I used my Shun kitchen shears for the final touches. Who would seriously cut their whole head of hair with Fiskars? Come on now, you’re being ridiculous.
After learning the details of my health insurance policy, which could best be compared to hanging naked from a second story window, cuffed by your wrists and covered with birdseed, I promptly broke out in hives. I owe a substantial sum to my therapist, who, luckily, is being cool about this whole thing, and I don’t even want to think about how much McLean Hospital is going to bite in for. I’m sure my psychiatrist doesn’t come cheap. To add icing to the proverbial cake, these hives have been sticking around for over a week now, so I’ll have to spend another $170 for some dude at the health clinic to tell me he has no idea what’s wrong with me.
Yes, sometimes life is good, my friends. And, sometimes, it’s like being kicked repeatedly in the teeth.