There was a time when every day was blog worthy. There was drama! There was intrigue! Broken heels! Boys sending flowers! There were co-workers to scorn, boyfriends of friends to terrorize and many more exciting tidbits of my life. (Said with tounge firmly in cheek.) (I'm actually quite sure I could find a relating pathetic story to every word of this post, but I'll just save the most mispelled, poorly written and generally horrendous highlights. Or lowlights, as it were.)

Back in the days of carefully crafted blog posts, today would have been a veritable goldmine for story fodder. I ran out of gas, disasterously dyed my hair and locked my car keys in work. Paticularly disasterous since I was the only one left. Ah. I remember the days when I would have used all the aforementioned events for policemen snagging, plentiful tears and huge dramatic breakdowns. (I won't even bother linking to that. We'd be here all night with the links I could provide.)

I don't know if this is an exercise to remind myself how downright irritating I can be. Or if it's just a pathetic excuse for a blog post. But I laughed today because during all three situations where I would have worked myself in a tightly wadded bunch of panties, I just laughed and rolled my eyes.

Eh. That's life. You move on. You'll survive.

(Word on the street has it that I'm a bit easier to live with. Imagine that. Me easy to live wi--Wait. She said easier, not easy. Ah.)

In conclusion: I need something bigger, shinier and more exciting for good stories. Keep reading for Porkchop: Bounty Hunter stories.

(I'm kidding. Sort of. Not really.)