So at 12:01 a.m., pumped up on adrenaline after watching over six hours of football (most of it played OVER and OVER and OVER again), I made these awesomely grandiose plans for my Monday.
All of the laundry would get done.
The huge box of 'paperwork' would get tackled, completed, and filed.
And I would scrapbook the rainy afternoon away.
And then the fish hooks got in the way.
Eight times before 8:00.
Fish hooks, you say?
That's the way I describe the pain.
Imagine that a fish hook is being pulled through your guts, all thirty feet of them. Every time you have a bowel movement. And then imagine that you have over ten bowel movements a day. What if you had fifty bowel movements a day?
Some people compare it to swallowing a saw.
Nope, it's fish hooks for me.
So my grandiose plans have been shot down.
I will settle for getting all the laundry done.
Perhaps next Monday I will put scrapbooking FIRST on my list.