#July2016
Monday Morning Commute: week after week after week after week
Sorry for radio silence over the weekend, comrades. Had a bit of a weekend, comrades. Early Friday morning, my Nana sloughed off the mortal coil, and transcended meat-space. At the same time, I was stricken with the most staggering stomach flu I’ve ever had. Violence, friends. Violence erupting out of both ends, friends. By the time early Saturday morning rolled around, I was down a final grandparent and a literal seven pounds of fluids.
As I told you last week, comrades. We’re all riding shotgun with Entropy. Such it is for all of us, and neither my Nana nor my quivering flesh-bag could escape it. Can escape it. But she had a good run, 95 years-old. And I merely had the runs, 24 hours-long.
No matter. No worry. All flesh decays.
The column wherein I enumerate the especially enlisted distractions designed to glaze the gears of the existential engine during a given week.
Join me in the comments, comrades. Partake in this parade of particularities with your own choice cuts.
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