When you say ‘hi’ to a towel
When you just have woken up and stumble to the bathroom (in the half darkness) where you on the go stoop and say with your most gentle voice “hiii!” as in ‘Hi dear sweet cuteful cutiepetootie sweety’ to a towel lying on the floor next to the wall before you enter the bathroom; that’s when you know you’re over 50, realizing that you really must do something about family members throwing bath towels outside the bathroom and that from now on you have to keep your mouth shut about these kinds of incidents to your family because otherwise maybe you end up with glasses, an invitation to an elderly open house or they are going to ensure that your unofficial reputation as incognito psychic eye (because obviously it is not able to distinguish a cat from a towel or vice versa; which is also a bit alarming to me) will be taken away from you, which shall evaluate in a decrease of tarot clients instantly I guess.
Well duhh! They should be glad I am doing well (as undiagnosed mentally retarded) functioning (sort of) without medicines, drugs or alcohol. I’m still living on snake poison (given to me while giving birth to daughter 24 years ago) and that I’m doing quite alright regarding conditions.
My sister also says: as long as you don’t mention to your readers that I don’t exist, you’re doing fine!
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