And Life Moves Along

Despite the minor health scare, life moves on. (The consensus: a wicked esophageal spasm that lasted–yes!–three hours. It sucked. As for the artifacts on my stress test, well, the cardiologist said he couldn’t explain them, so it must be fine, right?)

I might feel like I’ve been hit by a train, but I’ve still got to work. So, I got myself sprung, took a nap, and started doing paperwork.

Tomorrow I’ll be taking the kid to the dentist at 7:30. I might go into work, too. I haven’t quite decided yet. I still feel kind of under the weather, but I guess we’ll see how I feel in the morning.

So, I guess I’ll just have to shake it off, and move along. One thing about my schedule: it doesn’t allow me the time to feel sorry for myself. For long, anyway.

But, so you don’t feel too sorry for me, I’ll leave you with this story:

Hubs and I were in England, on a sightseeing tour as chaperones (of sorts) for a bunch of high school students (Yay? Oh, wait, it was free for us, so YAY!).

So, there we were on the bus, looking out the window, and everyone is sleeping or bored or whatever. Hubs looks over at me and says:

“You know what this place really needs?”

Me: “What?”

Hubs: “A comedy club.”

Me, laughing: “I dare you to take the mic from Tim and start telling dirty Scottish jokes.”

Hubs: “There are dirty Scottish jokes?”

Me: “Yeah. I’ve got about seven or eight of them. They all involve sheep.”

Hubs: Laughs. “Do tell.” (He grew up on a ranch with sheep; he takes it as a badge of honor to know all the sheep jokes)

It became a ritual with us: we’d wait until everyone was asleep , then I’d tell Hubs one of my jokes, and then he’d get up in front of the group, take the mic from Tim, and start telling jokes about Scotsman and their sheep. Until we ran out, that is, and then we switched it the English and their cuisine.

Without further ado, here is the first joke Hubs told on the bus…

How do you know the Rolling Stones aren’t Scottish?

Because the Rolling Stones say, “Hey, you, get off m’cloud,” and a Scotsman would say, “Hey, McLeod, get off my ewe!”

It’s an awful joke, I know. It still cracks me up.


9 thoughts on “And Life Moves Along”

  1. So glad you’re feeling better. Stop pushing yourself so hard. Stay home from work and get some rest. You scared the living hell out of me.

    Please keep me informed on what the cardiologist says. As for your sheep joke, I know you have better ones than that.

    1. Thanks, Janna!

      I do have good sheep jokes, just not ones I’d tell to a bus load of teenagers and the Dean of the Speech Pathology Department. 🙂

      As for not pushing myself, I’m honestly not sure I’d know what to do with myself if I didn’t. I’m trying to slow down–apparently, my body thinks I should. Now if I can curb my ambition, control my need to get everything done, and learn how to relax…

      Sent from my iPhone

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