Are you reading A Nervous Tic Motion Yet? You should be. I write a weekly column there – Wineconed Wednesdays. You know you want to throw some. And I would really love for you to join in!
Ash Wednesday. Also known as that day when you do a double take at all the people wandering around and refrain from gesturing at your forehead and saying, “Hey, um, you got smudgey stuff.”
It’s also the start of Lent. That day where everyone says they’re giving up Lent for Lent. (Or Facebook. That seems to be the trend this year.) I give up junk food every year. By Thursday I will think this is a terrible idea. But mostly, it’s an added piece of motivation in a quest to be healthier.
It seems like this has been a really rough cold and flu season. So I’ve got some personal winecones to through at runny noses and fevers. But at this very moment I would like to hurl a giant winecone at the vice clamped around my head in the hopes it may dislodge the pressure and make the migraine go away. (It’s also made me a little punchy.) The giant winecone will ideally arrive bearing gifts of painkillers.
Before I forget I’d like to winecone croup for next weeks WW. Dear croup, you suck giant donkey balls and I winecone you with hundreds of winecones with glittery ninja dust so you get your ass kicked properly.
Editor’s note: Um…what she said.
The selective memories of certain colleagues astounds me. You know others were there too? Pretending you never said something doesn’t make it so.
Editor’s note: I found you a photo. Because this is kind of what adult selective memories reminds me of. We’re grownups people, not toddlers. I bequeath you a winecone to smack the offending (wo)man-child right in the face with a remind. And then, may your cones come with a plethora of red wine for you to escape the situation with.
And what if you wave your winecone wand and nothing happens? Throw it away and punch him in the nose.”
Who brings a 9 mos old baby on a red-eye flight? Nuff said.
Editor’s note: Anyone at any age is nuts for taking a red-eye flight. And infants keep to their own schedule. You know what interrupts that? An enclosed aluminum tube hurtling through space at 600+ miles per hour. And you know how infants let you know that their schedule is AFU? By screaming bloody murder. Winecones and Benadryl. If nothing else, you’ll pass out and get some sleep on the confounded red-eye.
Sleep. Oh. My. God. A smackaroo to sleep. Grandparents were in town this weekend and Search and Destroy wanted nothing to do with me. So I took a nap. On my brand new bed! Which may just be the most comfortable thing EVER. It’s like a rectangular hug enveloping me into happy happy dreams.
You know what, I think I’ll do more of that RIGHT NOW.
‘Till next week, winecones and kisses!
*Leave your Winecones in the comments or email us at firstname.lastname@example.org or email@example.com and we’ll add yours next week!
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