I had such a weird dream last night. Pookie Bear and I went to my prom. I wore a royal blue gown. I also found out my mother had her legs amputated but she kept her spirits high by joining a dance class and shuffling along on her hands.
I’ve spent the evening getting my tax stuff together. My mind is ready to shut down.
I wonder if there just aren’t enough hours in the day or I am just wasteful with time and slow?
Is that dude ever putting a ring on your finger, or what?
Commitment: “the practice of using legal means or forms as part of a mental health law to commit a person to a mental hospital, insane asylum, or psychiatric ward.”
Yep, that describes a lot of marriages I know.