Another Weird Day

It was probably finding the dead body on the beach that really made Monday weird for me, but I’ll get to that later. Monday was a federal holiday in honor of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Interestingly, it was also a state holiday in Alabama and Mississippi to “honor” the traitor and Confederate General Robert E. Lee. They call it King-Lee Day in those states. It’s so nice that they link MLK with slavery.

Anyway, I decided that business would be lighter than a normal Monday, so I took most of the day off to address some clinical trial study business in Chicago. My first appointment was for, uh, well, I wasn’t sure. I couldn’t remember. Oddly enough, I went anyway. They seemed to know me when we spoke on the phone and confirmed the appointment. However, when I got there, it sure didn’t look familiar to me other than it was on Chicago’s beautiful Michigan Avenue. But still I continued unknowingly on to the appointment in a small, nondescript, sixth floor office. It wasn’t until I was sitting in an exam room that I realized what the study was for. I was grateful that it wasn’t for an experimental lobotomy. I read the release form and remembered I was there for an Alzheimer’s study.

I’m guessing I don’t have to point out the irony. I also wonder if I really qualify. You’ve read this blog. Can you really say that I don’t have a thinking problem?

In 3 months, I’ll know if they have identified certain tau proteins in my blood that may or may not indicate that I have a propensity toward Alzheimer’s. Or something like that, I forget.

I had some time before my next appointment, so I thought a winter walk on the beach would be a good idea. Boy, was I wrong. Sure, I enjoyed the walk – until I stumbled upon this dead body.

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No Red Carpet for Me

Is the red carpet at the Academy Awards huge like that kid says? Don’t ask me. It looks like I’ll never know. I should’ve known better than to buy a plane ticket to the 2023 Academy Awards so far in advance. You remember the Oscar I was almost assured of winning? Well, now that’s slipped out of my grasp.

I was cut from the movie. I didn’t even make it onto the cutting room floor. My scene was cut before filming even began. I was given some lame excuse about the restaurant my scene was to be filmed in was no longer available. I suspect it was the dastardly work of one of them jealous Hollyweird types like Matt Damon. He’s very paranoid about anyone else succeeding.

See what I mean? I wasted a whole week experimenting with make-up and mugging into the mirror to practice stealing the scene.

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