You see, I worked on this visual a few days ago and my frustration with it prompted me to clean my room. It’s so immaculate, you can eat off the dresser and you’d probably enjoy ’cause it’s rather pretty. Speaking of rooms, if you recall, and you probably don’t if you don’t think about me that way, which is fine, but I said I was decorating this year. If I tell you all I bought was a valance to hang in the kitchen window for all my grand notions of decorating, I’d be ashamed…Folks, I’m ashamed. I have multiple excuses to offer but I won’t give any. To be real honest, I don’t even feel like talking about it but I felt obligated on some level since going with this visual.
Being as such, I owe you an apology for talking about nothing strongly related to world affairs, the health crisis or how hard Sherry Shephard’s trying to sell her wig line on The View. If you’re like me, I do like some level of consistency and I’m rightly bothered that Friday brings day 4 of a wig change-up on her head this week. I don’t know about you but there are times when I do sweat the small stuff, even if it has absolutely nothing to do with me. I know I’m not alone in my grievances ’cause if I was, we wouldn’t have as many talk shows as we do.
Far as I’m concerned, there was no better talk show that aired than Phil Donahue. Maybe there’s something about me and Phils. I do like Dr. Oz too and used to watch him faithfully but he started giving me anxiety. You see, I get excited calmly, if that makes any sense, and I couldn’t take all his hyperactivity. I know he’s passionate and all but damn. I don’t wear anxiety well at all but I don’t wanna talk about that either ’cause it may excite me and I don’t feel much like being that either.