My Life Is A Sitcom And I Don’t Know It

 

About three-fourths of the way into Monday evening’s dog walking escapade, I began to compose this Facebook post mentally.  My dog is an idiot, and me with now two elbows chock full o’ tendinitis?  I needed the distraction.  I’ve not been an inspired writer of late, and I’m so dismayed at my dearth of productivity.

I thought I was pretty clever, but no.  It was my friends who brought their collective A-game to the party.  As the night progressed, I was in near hysterics.  Thank you for swaddling me up in a blanket of laughter, Facebook friends.  And to those who wrote this post for me–my sympathies.  And thanks, of course, my thanks. Caleb is a dimwit (or constantly exuding a degree of joy unequaled by humans, you pick), and it looks like he is in good, furry company.

My friend Kathie isn’t on Facebook, but has experienced the wonder that is Caleb, the canine backpack, so I sent her a screenshot of the Facebook post. She responded by telling me my life was a sitcom and I didn’t even know it.  I wonder who they’ll get to play me. . .

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