Thanks for not giving me the speeding ticket. Thanks for not issuing those other 8 tickets you were apparently going to give me. (At least you didn’t force me to ride my bike home, after you spotted it in the back seat.) But I’m sorry my front license plate got ripped off in a car wash and had to be temporarily stuffed between my dashboard and windshield. And I’m glad the frame celebrating me as an “alumni” of my university on the back license plate is illegal. It’s Tuesday and this week already blows.
My phone has been blowing up daily with emails from banks suggesting I would make a great financial adviser based off my resume that shows no previous experience in the profession, and shady-sounding companies asking me to “work from home” and deliver packages that are guaranteed to be “drug and weapon free”. Right. I shouldn’t be handling the finances of others with five bucks in my wallet,and shipping what is probably someone’s stolen kidneys to another country isn’t where I saw myself in ten years. Back to the drawing board, and much more suffering to be done over my attempt at writing this book.
In other news:
This deer ALMOST ate out of my hand. Not that I’m sure I really wanted him to. But it would have been pretty awesome. (Check the sports bra and running shoes, post bike ride to feed the gnarly-looking kitties on Peace Pipe Way. I am the official cat lady of the Poconos.)