I’m so punny. This is for the curmudgeons, the lost, the sad and the lonely. Xmas eve. Here we go.
Waiting to hear whether the neighbour can cope with a hospital visit. Waiting for one fierce hellhound of a headache to relax its jaws. Waiting for the latest increase in meds to work, or not.
Other than that, it’s business as usual round here and xmas isn’t hurting today. Still, I don’t want to fuck with my bah humbug reputation, so without further ado, some melodramatic Macbeth.
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
That’ll get you in the holiday mood eh? Haha.
Are you okay? Coping? If your sense of humour is as warped as mine, this’ll cheer you up slightly.
