A jaunty car with the personalized tags MISS FUN whizzed by me the other day.
Every day since then, I’ve been thinking about that tag. MISS FUN sounds like someone I’d enjoy meeting. I’m guessing she’s extroverted, laughs easily, and takes her Border Collies for lots of walks. MISS FUN enjoys hiking with her husband, taking photographs, and sipping tea. She reads a lot but still finds time to keep her house and car in mint condition.
You know where this is going, right? I am not MISS FUN. In fact, the more I visualize her tag, the more I read it as MISS FUN. I do MISS FUN. My life has been a whirlwind of bizarre and unpleasant maladies since July. The past few weeks seem like icing on an unpalatable cake. Three weeks ago I had to take steroids so I didn’t spend my days like this:
Oops, my dermatologist forgot that people need to TAPER off steroids, so I ended up in massive steroid withdrawal. I never realized what athletes endured so they could win gold medals, bless their cheating hearts. I made it through that lengthy episode, only to have a nasty spider encounter. I’m guessing it got stuck under my skinny jeans but THREE gross bites that look like smallpox? No photos cuz they look too yucky. I used cortisone cream but have ended up on Benadryl. The Benadryl Buzz. I take half a child’s dose and I can’t remember my name. Oh, wait, I know! MISS FUN!
I’m deciding on my own license plate. MISS BLOG, MISS EXERCISE, and MISS BRAIN are my top three choices. You get my meaning?