No one has the flu.
Chuck’s kidneys are not, at the moment, stoned.
Amigo is in good spirits and preparing for Trivia Weekend, one of his favorite weekends all year long.
La Petite and her significant other will visit to go to a hockey game armed with teddy bears. Trust me. It makes sense.
And me? I finally reached my tolerance limit and told the doctor I was ready for a permanent solution to a problem that’s been happening on and off for the last five years. My surgery is Monday morning.
My recovery could take as long as six weeks. My substitute is trained and ready to take over my online school obligations. I have loaded my Kindle with books, I bought new pajama pants emblazoned with Dr. Seuss’ One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish. There’s coffee enough in the cupboard.
Deep breath: I think I’m ready.
You will be in my thoughts and prayers. Good luck with your surgery on Monday.