
My stress levels are shooting through the roof again.
Yawn. What else is new?
Nothing I want to talk about.
Which? Is yet another reason I'm really a man. Believe it or not, even though I've been a girl for decades, the phrase "I don't want to talk about it" comes to mind. When it all gets to be too much, I shut down. Just like a man. The person hiding behind the newspaper who only grunts when you try to start a conversation? That would be me.

Bring me a plate of bacon and eggs and some coffee or shut up.
So I'm at Mamarazzi today.
Would chocolate covered bacon be too girly?
ReplyDeleteNot at all. Guess what I've eaten today: barbecued pork ribs and chocolate cookies. Can chocolate-covered bacon be far behind?
ReplyDelete