I am from the middle of fucking Iowa.
Today’s Lesson: The Fist Pound
And the grade I received:
"Rubber Husband"
This morning, I was enjoying coffee, juice, and cereal in my undies while catching up on the world when our housekeeper came in. To put it nicely, she’s not anyone’s favorite. “Cleaning the piano keys” at 8 am and religious-based lectures mean that if we come home to her car in the driveway, we invent new errands to run.
Anyway, this morning I was stuck, but she has been strangely nice to me recently so I sucked it up. First unsought story began with rhapsodizing about her “rubber husband,” which is a rubber jar opener. “You know one time I was talking about my rubber husband and someone thought I was getting kinky.” Dildo talk before 9 am from my mid-sixties, Jehovah’s witness housekeeper.
Seriously. After the next story linking my dog’s wet nose to Noah’s Ark, I threw my breakfast away and locked myself in my room.
Deena Kastor
An optimistic attitude that is particularly impressive coming from someone who has run 140 miles a week for years. She’ll be going for her second Olympic marathon medal tonight.
Lately I’ve been cleaning my email inbox out entirely, and it’s very theraputic.Just the thought of doing this almost gives me a panic attack.
i keep my gmail inbox clean as a whistle. having emails in there almost gives me panic attacks.
Some of us are holding on to more baggage than others.


