To my head, neck, and back injuries. To my kiddo’s near-fatal head trauma.
On the bright side, it’s been 365 days since I’ve been in a car wreck. It’s astonishing how much impact on everyone’s lives it can have when someone doesn’t pay attention while driving.
365 days since a guy decided to do anything but looking in front of him and parked his F350 in the back of my car at 65 mph.
I still hate the weightless feeling of elevators because it reminds me of the feeling of being hit. I still cringe and recoil when people come up fast in my rearview. I will probably always have back spasms and crushing pain in my neck and back. At least we walked away from it.
Drive safe kids.
Uh, no son. Bedtime is time to HIT the sack. That’s something else entirely. To be fair, I think he learned the expression from Home Alone.
I find myself rooting for the SeaChickens since all of the likable teams are out. At least Tom Brady was sent packing.
You can lose portions or all of your sense of taste like I have. I can’t taste sweet or sour. This ruins Chinese food and cranberry juice. Boo.
Happy birthday, everyone (not that anyone reads this but my shrink said I should write stuff down).
I don’t really believe in resolutions for New Years so I have a couple of goals:
Play more video games
Go back to the gym
Watch a bunch of the movies that I am way way behind on.
These sound like super easy goals but since the wreck in January I have a hard time looking at screens too long and I still can’t lift or bend for beans at this point. We shall see how it goes.
I should add writing something once per week minimum.
Stay safe and healthy.
Seems like a decent starting point for a horror movie plot.
When snow is falling it has a particular beauty to it. It seems to make the sky so much brighter and leaves everything fluffy and quiet as two or so inches fall upon everything. It’s the next foot of snow that is a major pain in my rump and lower back.
I got up early(ish) and made crepes. The kids took one look and said “what is that?” I said, “it’s a crepe. Like a French pancake. You put strawberries and whipped cream, or Nutella and bananas or whatever in it. They looked at me like my head was on fire and said, “no thanks, just a granola bar” (this is paraphrased as my 6 year old likes to shorten words and refers to them as “a granol” I don’t get it but I guess it’s what kids do)
I guess I’ll make Dutch babies or waffles tomorrow. Wacky kids. They also declared that they didn’t want to go outside and play in the snow because apparently no-school days equate to all-day video games and tv in their little minds. When we were kids it was all about playing outside until you get frozen and then come inside and play games. But when I was their age we had an odyssey 2. Not as exciting as having every console and arcade game available at your fingertips.
I was trying to buy a car something like two weeks ago now. “Oh sure, it’s here on the lot somewhere, sit in the sales office and wait.” Which took 2 hours only to find out it wasn’t there. On the wall was this poster.
I’m not sure that a lion is a good example of leadership. Pictured is a male lion who pretty much sits around and expects the lionesses to bring him food and whatnot. It’s really more of a show of arrogance.
ALSO, I really hate that Haribo Gold Bears commercial with all of the people in the meeting with child voices. It makes me irrationally angry. Like a phone call from Farmers.
As if I didn’t have enough to frustrate myself over, I have to decide on license plates.
I’m leaning whales. Now I just have to commit to what I’m going to affix them to.
Imagine that you’re at a party. The music is bumpin, you’ve got a nice iced tea in your hand. Suddenly, some complete jerk knocks you off your feet and straight into a piano (this is a really nice party). You break your teeth out of your head. The whole room is spinning. I reach out and offer you my hand. I make you promises. “I’m hosting this party… It’s going to be ok. I’ll take care of you” I tell you.
I point you towards the emergency dental office and offer to pay the bill. I tell you that you’re going to be taken care of. You trust me. But there’s something you don’t know. Deep down, I’m resentful of you for getting hurt at my party. I’m tired of hearing you complain about your teeth getting knocked out. I offer to give you $500 for your teeth.
Why are you mad? I understand that you can’t replace your teeth for $500. I’m really not interested in hearing about how it’s going to cost you $4500 for implants. You don’t need implants. Just get a bridge. It will look and work close enough. Sure you have to take it out to eat and you’re going to have to put a lot more maintenance into it over the long run but sometime in the next 60 years your teeth might have fallen out anyway, so what do you really want from me anyway?
Jacked up teeth due to no fault of your own? We’ve made excuses not to make it right.
My name is Farmers, and I’m a prick. You should meet my buddy, Allstate.