I didn’t watch the inauguration. I know you’re all shocked. Nothing personal, I just thought it sounded really boring. I don’t like listening to speeches (by anyone). I’ll read a speech, occasionally, but if there isn’t a transcript out there, forget it. The big exception is when I go to church and listen to people give speeches, i.e. sermons. (Is there a difference, really?) And even then, I’m not really listening most of the time.

I heard the President’s speech was nice. I assume there will be a transcript waiting for me on the internet if I decide to go read it, but I don’t think I will. I’ll probably just make do with the banal excerpts people post on Facebook along with pictures that make it look like he’s said something especially profound. That was overly snide, wasn’t it? Maybe there is something personal here. I plead illness. The three-hour nap on Friday wasn’t enough to nip the head cold in the bud. The head cold has settled in for an extended visit. It’s made me a tad cranky.

Here’s what really made me cranky: I didn’t sleep well last night (you know, with the whole not being able to breathe thing), but when I did sleep, I had a very stressful dream about shopping at the grocery store. In my dream I went to the grocery store twice, and it was very stressful both times and I couldn’t find what I wanted/needed. The only thing worse than dreaming about grocery shopping is dreaming about grocery shopping and waking up to the reality that you actually have to go grocery shopping. I felt very apprehensive about the trip all morning. I didn’t actually get out there until around noon. It was horrible, by the way. Who knew that Martin Luther King Day was a big grocery shopping day? Everyone and their dog was there. At least I’m not going back again today.

I had to buy myself more Gatorade because I ran out of the disgusting grape stuff. This time I got raspberry lemonade. Gatorade is pretty disgusting in itself, regardless of the flavor, that’s just a fact, but for something disgusting, I have to say, the raspberry lemonade isn’t bad. Which is good, because I got eight bottles of it. I also got some Top Ramen because that’s how I roll when I’m sick. Top Ramen is pretty gross too, I understand that, but it tasted really good about 20 minutes ago.

What I really wanted this morning was fresh pears because pears are my favorite fruit. My husband will testify that I’m not a big fruit eater–actually, the way he puts it is “Mad hates fruit,” which isn’t true. I like fruit. I just don’t always feel like eating fruit. More to the point, I don’t like to eat canned fruit, and I will usually refuse to eat canned fruit, at which point my husband will say, “Oh, I forgot. You hate fruit.” No, I hate canned fruit, but thanks for offering. Although I love pears so much, I will even eat them canned. They’re not as good that way–I mean, you really shouldn’t even compare the two things, but apparently pears are just so delicious that they can survive the process of being made disgusting by being put into a can. (Notice that I resisted the temptation to say “a-pear-antly.” You’re welcome. Except I just said it now. I’m sorry.) But that’s neither here nor there.

I really wanted some fresh pears this morning. I would have paid any price for them. And I did buy pears (for a reasonable price, considering the season), but I couldn’t buy any ripe pears, or close-to-ripe pears, and that’s a problem because while pears are in fact delicious enough to eat when they’re not quite ripe, they are not quite delicious enough to eat when they’re not remotely close to ripe. Although I must say, totally unripe pears are orders of magnitude tastier than unripe peaches. But we’re not grading on a curve here. I don’t want to eat an unripe pear. So I have to wait a couple days for my pears to ripen so I can have some pears. Which means I can’t eat pears today. My life is one of constant struggle.

I’m sneezing a lot today. Miraculously, I did not sneeze on any of the produce at the grocery store. Everyone in the community owes me their gratitude.

What else can I tell you? I really just want to go up to my room and lie in bed and watch Netflix, but I know as soon as I do that, someone’s going to come in and need me. As long as I just sit here on the couch wishing I were somewhere else doing something else, they won’t bother me.

What’s worse than sneezing a lot is that constant feeling like you’re going to sneeze.

I was going to end this post with something snappy, but I’m going to give up before I think of anything. Farewell, gentle readers, and enjoy what remains of the holiday. Go forth and judge people by the content of their characters. Adieu.