Comedy
This week: Edited by: Beyond the Cloud9 More Newsletters By This Editor
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Comedy a.k.a. funny stuff.
Whatever your writing style or reading preference, comedy finds its way into everyone’s life in some form. Take time to look around and see the humor in life. Learn to love and laugh at yourself, and laugh with others.
This newsletter is designed to give you tips and entertainment, but mostly to put a smile on your face!
Your editor this week is Beyond the Cloud9
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There are times when I think birthing a child took certain things away from me. There has never been a second that I have regretted having my “Little Ray of Sunshine,” but there are certain aspects of myself that I miss. I miss a full night’s sleep and being able to sleep in. I miss movies. I have not been to the theaters since October 2004 and counting. I miss doing certain things in peace, like shopping and trying on clothes, which is now impossible. I miss eating three meals a day (although I can’t say I’ve missed the pounds I’ve shed as I have dwindled to one meal a day). Above all, I miss my mind, which wasn’t in that great of shape to begin with. Hopefully missing my mind is for the entertainment of others and not to my detriment at some point.
I lose my mind easily. I misplace my mind like I misplace my keys, purse, makeup, and the phone. While at lunch this afternoon with coworkers, my mind wandered off. All around me conversations were going, yet I sat in a fog, staring into another world. I thought about things I needed to do, including the quickest way to get the house clean upon returning to it that evening. I thought of diaper rash and how to prevent it. I thought about M*A*S*H and how the restaurant we were in used to have it on during lunch, instead of the news. I thought about possible future events, bouncing “what ifs” around. At one point I thought about pony rides, and I’m still trying to figure out what triggered that thought process. None of those things came close to pertaining to what anyone was discussing.
I managed to pay for my meal before walking out of the restaurant, which was a plus, but I forgot who I was riding with. Then I couldn’t locate the vehicle that was conveniently right in front of me. Upon exiting the vehicle, I was suddenly filled with panic, as I realized I did not have my purse.
“Wait,” I said to my coworker, “I don’t have my purse.”
“Is it in the vehicle?” he asked.
“Maybe,” I replied, peering into the darkly tinted windows.
He graciously unlocked the doors and I stuck my head inside, scanning the area. My purse was nowhere to be found, although I did find half of the newspaper I was reading on the floor. My heart was racing and my mind filled with dread. Please don’t tell me I left it at the restaurant. But how could I? I used my purse to pay the bill. Did I leave it outside on the news stand? No, because I distinctly recall picking up the paper with one hand.
It was then I found my purse. It was in my hand.
Tune in next month to read about Sherri trying to find her glasses.
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