Cooler than You: Stupid Things I Say and Do

Word on the street is that there is an unusually high smog alert over New York City. Yea, I apologize.  It is my fault. I’ve got the plaquenil farts again.  When the carbon monoxide detector goes off in the neighboring buildings I will not apologize.  I will deny any doing or knowledge.  As of late, compliments of finally getting my health insurance reinstated (though, the dental and vision are still being hijacked by bureaucracy), my days have been filling up with doctor’s appointments and the gremlin bottles have been multiplying on my dresser.  I haven’t even spilled any water, as of late.  Though, give that five minutes as I’ve got a bottle of seltzer calling my name.  Those bitches always bathe my carpet, bed, and me before settling down.  You would think there would be a better way to open them . . .I wonder if getting a boyfriend to open them would make things less wet? Oh wait, would need a boyfriend first.  Though, I have dude...

In the course of a week I aimlessly wandered through Central Park and ate up the luscious shades of fall. Needless to say, I graded midterms on the subway and in the park.  I aimlessly wandered along, breathed in the crisp autumn air laced with the scents of fallen leaves, and did not have to remind myself of how much I love this city. Then . . . Then, I stopped and ate a bagel in town.  An everything bagel with chive cream cheese, and tomato slices, is my favorite dinner.  Don't forget the side of coffee.  Yea, I know . . . not the atypical dinner, but it works for me.  As I got up from my chair my knee loudly popped, others in the shop turned to look, and my eyes got big.  A dull pain began . . . That was on Saturday. I didn't go to the doctor because I had to see my Lupus guy on Thursday, so I figured why pay an extra co-pay for something that was probably minor and could be fixed with a cortisone shot and a muscle relaxer.  There is also the ...