Fix It With A Bit of Fred

Sorry, no dreams to report today.  Yesterday’s elections had me glued to the television until past 1 a.m., and then heartburn ensued as soon as my head hit the pillow.  Then once I got comfortable, I started hearing things in my bedroom, which always seemed to happen each time I relaxed.  And of course my eyes kept flying open, in hopes of catching the cheeky ghost trying to screw with me.

After about an hour of this crap, I gave up and finally drifted off into dreamland … until my shoulder woke me with stabbing pain because I like to sleep on my side with my arm extended at a weird angle.

Much to my surprise, given how little sleep I got last night, I actually have a shred of motivation and energy to do a few things around the house.  But I don’t dare tell anyone.  I’m pretty sure Kevin will check me for a fever because I actually put clothes away for once, and I’m getting ready to finally fold the three baskets of clean clothes that have been staring me in the face since last Friday.

Wait … WHAT?  Off to Amazon in search of this magical folding device, because I can’t fold to save my life … except for towels and face cloths.

PS: Oh yeah.  About my title.  I found a hole in one of my favorite shirts, and as I was putting everything away, I started talking to myself and said “I’ll just fix it with a bit of Fred.”  My brain can’t seem to produce proper words when I speak lately.  Like there’s a short somewhere between my speech center and my tongue.  Just the other day I said fink instead of think, and Kevin took delight in teasing me.

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