Who Moved My Cheese?
That doesn’t really bother me.
I don’t get upset until someone moves it. Eats it. And then vomits it back up. On my foot.
That’s the kind of week it has been. Oh well.
Thursday
14 hours ago
where nothing is quite parallel nor perpendicular and likewise not as bleak as it may sound......
Observations of an opinionated
Catholic home-schooling mother/church secretary...
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