I'm in a Funk today. Guess it's the weather, but I feel all jumbly inside; at sixes and sevens, as the Brits say. (A phrase that makes no sense, but what do you expect from a country that gave us "Tally Ho" and crumpets.) But the sun will come out tomorrow, as the Prophet Annie tells us, so I'll just work through this Funk.
You know how things never happen the way you think they will? Yeah, that's getting on my nerves. I try to embrace the concept of accepting what the universe throws me, but I feel like I've gotten way too many curve balls in the last 60 years, and I'd kinda like to be able to hit one out of the park for a change. I try to fall back on the Count Your Blessings thing, but today my Funk is blocking that site. Meh. Let's change the subject.
The Bar Kitties and I have been watching some of the Olympics, but I find it pretty hard to relate to all the amazing athletes when I can't go three days without falling or walking into something. (Last night it was a chair leg. Today I'm limping. Case closed.) The Kitties can't relate because they're cats. And their wrestling skills are far better than any Olympian I've seen. Meh. Let's change the subject. Again.
Usually when I get into one of these Funks I buy myself a Treat and I feel better. I'm getting my car's oil changed before rehearsal tomorrow, but I don't think that counts as a Treat. (At least not for me. Car will probably be happy.) Maybe if I could get my oil changed. . . wait, that sounded dirty and that's not what I meant (Although...). I guess I just mean I'd like a Do-Over for today. Drain my Funkiness and replace it with, oh, I don't know. . .beer?
Anyroad, thanks for reading, if you have. Actually, the sun *is* supposed to come out tomorrow, according to Weathergod Spann, so I guess I can hang in there for the rest of Funky Friday. Tally Ho!