My dream home would have an MRI chamber for burrowing, and this would be filled with pure oxygen delicately scented of jasmine. The chamber would be next to the plunge pool filled with slightly temperate margarine. So good for the skin!
In the mornings, I like to stay in bed for an hour or so and hallucinate. The wall bricks turn into Tetris blocks, and the floor turns into jungle foliage. The wood beams in the ceiling are pure Bosch. Once I get up, I try to focus on tasks of great industry, like arranging my shoes by color. Most of them are black, so this doesn’t take too long. I have some coffee. I might answer email from clients, and a session of zen meditation is required when I read things like “I would just like to schedule a conference call to find out what your recommendations are.” Because the email is in response to me sending a one page Dick and Jane-style document where my recommendations are clearly outlined. In fact, it was called “Recommendations for _____” followed by a set of bullet points. Maybe I should start including more clip art. “Do this, like this, says the little turtle [fig. a].”
Ethicist, I have white spots in my fingernails again. Can you die from this? Does anyone want to plan my vacation? Mr. H is indisposed, leaving it all up to me. I read that Sri Lanka was the new Bali, but I suspect this no longer applies. My horoscope for today says “Challenges will be dealt with honorably.” I guess this means I can duel with pistols.