I have the funk. Swine flu? Strep? Depression? No. It is just "The Funk". Funk is highly contagious. Funk can be debilitating and physically draining. After two weeks of vacation time I SHOULD be funk free.
Hubby swears he can cure the funk in fifteen minutes or less. THAT does not cure the funk. Laundry and dishes aggravate the funk. I doubt he was offering to clean the house in fifteen minutes or less. A clean house will not even cure the funk. Neither will waking up with my body in all it's former glory. My butt should still travel while I'm asleep from my ankles back to it's perky home of origin. Isn't it bad enough that I am a chronic funk sufferer. Shouldn't I, at the very least, be a chronic funk sufferer with a perky butt?
I am going to start blog hopping to cure the funk. There is nothing like being post slapped to knock me out of the funk. I already got blog smacked by one amazing bloggy friend before I even finished whining about my funk.
Leave it to the witty and wise Rambler to write a tender post that smacks me into the reality that there are more important things than the jiggle in my wiggle and the dirty laundry in my basket. Pop over, visit a while and don't miss her A Thousand Words Thursday-Beyond Words post. Sending love, hugs and prayers to all the parents that are fighting for and with their children.