I’m better at irony than Alanis Morrisette.  Irony is my husband working on Labor Day.  Irony is anyone working on Labor Day, the holiday created to celebrate the working man and his contribution to society.  This was, of course, from the time where women rarely worked outside the home, so it’s not rude to say “working man” and “he” because it was mostly true.  Also the coal miners got Black Lung and the gold miners got Sparkly Lung and it was a harder, more bleak time in our nation’s history.  Anyway, Nick worked today and I thought that was more than a little ridiculous.  However, he’s expanding what he’s doing at work so maybe we won’t have to move to Florida to settle his need to have something change, because seriously, Hurricanes, Humidity, and H’alligators.  How much clearer can I get?  No one wants me to sweat that much.  It makes my thighs unhappy.  I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore.

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