Yesterday, after mowing the lawn early to avoid the 90+ degree heat and stomping trash for pick-up day, I entered a period of being bummed. It happens.
This morning it is raining and the high is supposed to be 79. I don’t think it stormed last night, but then I sleep through storms. Normally, I would make a jokelet about needing GPS the morning after a tornado, but given this year’s season, I’ll pass. (Although, I think I just stuck it in that last sentence. My secondary consciousness is incorrigible.)
I suppose I should continue on my cleaning binge . . . my enthusiasm has waned, however, and I am whining. I need super hero cleaning powers – the point and ZAP technique. I couldn’t be trusted with them, of course: I’d ZAP everything and everyone. ZAP! ZAP! ZAP! ZAP! ZAP! ZAP! ZAP!
Say this is lifting my spirits. Oh, but it’s only pretend. Now that’s a bummer.
Since you won’t take my comment about zapping being a lower order form of smiting, I am placing a call to the smiters.