Tag Archives: dust masks

The meaning of life …

So, prepare yourself for the next couple of days, or more likely weeks, when the hypochondria sets in, once again, as I’ve just finished sanding S’s room and found, wait for it, white stuff under my mask.

Yes, I should have brought out the big mask. The, oh my god it’s so uncomfortable but I will die if I breath in any of these glaze mixing powders if I don’t wear it mask. But no. I brought out the smaller, white, does this really do anything mask, which I wear when I’m sanding my jewelry while wondering if it’s really doing anything.

Panic hasn’t set in yet but I did come down and, straight away, ate three baby satsumas.

That’ll work, right?

Healthy, juicy, satsumas clear out dust filled lungs in minutes. Don’t tell me otherwise as I’ll have to go into the fetal position again and it will be days, well, mostly nights, spent on high alert for any twinge, cough, or ache.

God, I can feel it now …

For Christmas I think I want a new brain. One that laughs in the face of imminent doom.

Like this.

Hahaha – HA!

It’s so hard being me.

BTW, so you know, I just asked Siri what the meaning of life is, because I’m still trying to find out, and she replied:

Try to be nice to people, avoid eating fat, read a good book every now and then, get some walking in, and try to live in peace and harmony with people of all creeds and nations.

She replied, of course, when I thanked her.

Creepy eh?

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