The bluebird of happiness has clearly flown past this poor girl. She’s left with the canary of structural instability, or possibly the finch of lassitude. But as April fades into May and May fades into six months of hellish summer in the South, I think we all feel a bit this way. We all feel a bit melted.
We’re clearly having one of those days where we feel more like a partially-set custard than a human. This is a good Monday statuette.
Lordy, the poor thing’s nose is starting to recede. I hope that doesn’t happen to me when I get older, life’s complicated enough. And I also hope I’m never desperate enough for hair color that I use a yellow highlighter to, well, add some highlights. It’s unattractive. But it does break the otherwise unrelenting brown monotony this individual brings to the table.
On closer inspection, though, not a canary. It may be a pet rock, or possibly a groundhog. It may be a small imp composed of fat which is siphoning away her life energy, which would explain her gentle, graceful collapse, and might even get us a bit closer to the answer of “why do her eyes spin in opposite directions like a chameleon?” Why, because of the fat-demon. Silly question, really.
Goodwill on 2222 and Lamar, Austin