I have not dropped off the face of the Earth. I am still wrestling in the throes of this damn selling current house/buying "new" house thing and it's driving me mad, I tell you, mad! But I believe I am still alive; I do not think I am blogging from "H" "E" double hockey sticks ("L" "L"). Well, maybe I am. I actually went to You Tube to dig out this little gem from the 1983 sequel to Saturday Night Fever, the (not) big hit Staying Alive:
I have to say John Travolta had a really really nice butt back then...but then, so did I. LOL!
So, today I am removing the never-ending wallpaper in the family room because I promised my buyers I would do so. I should just go shoot myself now and be done with it. But just like John Travolta's character, Tony Manera, I do not know the meaning of the word QUIT ALREADY. All right, that's two words. So shoot me. Please!
It has been raining for the past five days. My backyard smells like a rotting jungle. The grass is half a foot tall but I can't get out to cut it because of (1) incessant pouring buckets of rain, accompanied by much thunder and lightning, (2) mud, mud and more mud, the earth is saturated to the point of flooding, and (3) I am out of gasoline for the lawn mower and because of said incessant rain, I have not been able to walk the half mile to the gas station to fill up my gas can, which is not a can at all but a heavy-duty red plastic container with screw-on cap.
I hope that some time in July I will actually be packed up and moved into the new small home which I have grown to hate Hate HATE over the past sixty days. This entire process has been a nightmare and, even worse, people all around are telling me "oh, you are having an easy time of it." Totally insane!
So, there you have it. Retirement is 895 days away...