Today I received three pieces of mail. First, the bad news: the IRS says they need me to sign my form before they send me my refund (although I clearly remember signing it, and the jerks I paid to do my taxes surely would have noticed, right?) The second was a book (Magical Thinking by Augusten Burroughs) from PaperBackSwap. Good thing, because I was ready for a new book. I read his other book, Running With Scissors, last week and it was pretty good, in a sick kind of way. Apparently there is a movie of it and everyone else on the planet already read it like two years ago, but I don't keep up with trends. I live in West Virginia. You're lucky I can read, people.
But I have saved the best for last, just like that horrible song everyone always plays at weddings says. The third piece of mail was Everything Is Wrong With You: The Modern Woman's Guide To Finding Self-Confidence Through Self-Loathing by Wendy Molyneux. She sent it because she was so very dazzled by my wit that she thought I needed a prize. (okay, really I was runner-up in a contest on her blog in which she asked readers to name fictional book titles for people with low expectations. I changed Charles Dickens' "Great Expectations" to "Realistic Expectations.")
Also, an unexpected visitor showed up this afternoon. He, or she- I haven't checked, came running across the street while I was outside. I treated him or her to chicken strips and a bowl of water. Last I checked he or she was still sitting on my porch. Violet will be very happy to see this guest when she wakes up, which will be any time now.
Rest In Peace, Megs
3 hours ago