Earlier this week, I was sick with a stomach virus for 2 days. After I got better, and was able to finally clean up my deathbed and house, guess what I discovered in the pile of mail that came while I was laid up? An offer. From a funeral home. For pre-planning services. Really, funeral home? Really? How do they know? Then I realized that in my case, they probably just happened to be cruising their hearse near my house when they caught what their trained noses believed to be the stench of death, made a note of the address on the mailbox, and added me to their roster, when the stench of death was actually just me, fully engulfed in my own filth and bodily expulsions.
Maybe a cinnamon broom is in order.
Stupid stomach virus. Oh, well, at least I lost 5 pounds (which I'm sure, just like always, I will somehow mysteriously gain back in 2 days, even though I still don't feel like eating much). UHH! >:{
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