Best Laid Plans

A 4-post collection

GAAH!

Mayhem threw up again, this morning. His skin is looking a little sallow, too.

I'm worried that the medicos are going to demand they take his gallbladder out regardless of the possible benefits or definite detriments.

Fingers crossed, some sunshine will help him out.

My plns also include depositing my scratchings from this year into my Dreams account. Something for which requires my actual physical presence in the actual physical bank. Because my scratchings are a loose collection of random bills and I am certain that I would count it wrong.

I don't want my son to have one of his organs removed. I'm willing to bet money that five, maybe ten years down the line, medical science will "discover" that humans actually need their gall bladders and I don't want to be in on that class action suit.

I'd much rather it not be necessary.

Onwards I go. I owe my Patreon Patrons some content. I owe y'all a Wordpress Wednesday, too.

[AN: This should have been posted yesterday, but my day be frelled up. Sorry.]

D'aaaaaaaaauuuuuuggghhh!

Baby shower’s been cancelled, because the baby in question’s been born.

The Mum will still need my unpatented first Mum’s survival kit, so we’ll have to arrange to visit sometime RSN.

With, or without the frikkin’ sarong.

So now Mum-in-law has to rattle up here to get the paperwork to get it back to the friend so she can initial it and get it back to me so I can submit it and

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Ow times a googolplex

So I tripped over a chair last night. No big deal, you might think.

I landed on my massively bad bone-bruised heel. 92.4 kilos of me, landing on one small area [about two square inches, if you feel like doing the math. And yes, I’m completely bipolar with metric choices] and you can guess it hurt like fuck.

It still hurts like fuck today.

I’m limping everywhere, when I have to move. I prefer not to move

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