Think you have it bad? Guess who's coming to my house!
Mr. CMD made an appointment with an insurance salesman at 10 a.m. When I came home from HQ last night, I curled up in my big old chair with an ice pack on my arthritic knee. That is where I spent the night. I still have on yesterday's clothes and have not yet combed my hair.
Now I hear that this guy is coming to talk about an insurance policy we took out 30 years ago. DAMN! I don't even want to be civil; though I probably will comb my hair.
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