Was writing an email at work today, and it hit me like a ton of bricks. I’d also like this engraved on my tombstone . . .
“Sorry I couldn’t be more helpful.”
come on, you have to admit that this is perfect! (no matter HOW you read it . . . )
Was writing an email at work today, and it hit me like a ton of bricks. I’d also like this engraved on my tombstone . . .
“Sorry I couldn’t be more helpful.”
come on, you have to admit that this is perfect! (no matter HOW you read it . . . )
okay. so the second job is kicking my butt right now. hoping to catch up this weekend. (I mentioned to someone that I was going to go home and blog, and the person said, “you need to get a life!” to which I replied, “Blogging IS my life!” not exactly, but . . . )
Anyway, I was taking a leisurely stroll down memory lane (yeah . . . I’m so afraid that Facebook is on the verge of jumping the shark, because it seems like everybody and their grandmother is joining now) and took a wrong turn into a dark alley of ugly memories.
okay. now that I’m finished mutilating THAT analogy . . . 😉
anyway, as a result of this experience, I’ve come up with a new six-word autobiography that I think is one I can live with and claim as the “final” version. (at least for now?!)
(and no, it’s not “Actually, Ramen noodles taste pretty good!” although I’ll admit I was tempted!)
anyway, here it is.