I started a blog. Then I fell off the Blogwagon and didn't know how to get back on. My readers, my dear wonderful, loyal readers have surely abandoned me by now and I thought I needed a stellar post worthy of breaking my silence to publish...turns out I just need to fall deathly sick on a weekend.
Judge away for not posting in such a long time, but in this period of time I have had 4 different jobs, a family reunion, a Mumford and Sons concert to attend and...well that's about it actually. Sorry about that.
Moving onward and downward to this plague. I think it's the same one that brought death to the eldest of the Pharaoh's Sons, the one that convinced Pharaoh to let God's people go, and the one that resurfaced in the middle ages when children made up that mildly cheery, but actually incredibly depressing song that went something like, "Ring around the rosey, a pocket full of nasty tissues, ashes ashes, we're going to suck the life out of you until you give in and watch hours (and hoursss) of Dawson's creek and then all fall down?" Yup, that's the one.
I think the worst was when I started hallucinating and texting my friends about my imminent death and bequeathing my most beloved objects to them. (My leather jacket, sky miles from SouthWest, etc) I even tried giving my sense of humor to someone but they politely declined calling it sarcastic and unforgiving. Oops.
Oh well such is the life. If I do in fact survive this, I'll probably drop another post about my adventures of being sick, creating home remedies from Pinterest and picking up the youngest Seaton Son up from a Greyhound bus station in one of the worst areas of town around Scare O'clock last night. (But I'll keep it PG because the parentals don't need to know about the gory deets).
That's all for now. Many thanks to you lovely readers for well, reading. I hope this plague isn't contagious via the interwebs.
