That’s a line from an old Dilbert cartoon, but it describes my mood right now.
First, I have gas. I mean I have gas bad. Taking a deep breath is excrutiating. The pressure squeezing my kidneys into my knees is killing me. Relieving myself has, as of yet, proved unsuccessful.
Second, a major dilema: I have a wedding to go to on Sept 14. Yes, my bud Wendy is getting married! My "date" is my ex-wife, Shannon. (That’s somehow ironic, I think… taking your ex-wife to the wedding of the first girl you dated after your divorce.) But last night I found out that 9/14 is also the date of Shannon’s niece’s first marching band contest of the season. My ex has become a marching band groupie and I know she’ll feel really bad about missing it. Holly, her niece, will be pretty disappointed too.
Continue reading ‘Woe is Carl’
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