Thursday, September 18, 2008

This Can't Be A Good Sign

Tonight while I was driving home from work, a pigeon swooped into traffic, smashed itself into the side of the car in front of me (that was traveling 50 mph), exploded in a flurry of feathers and was propelled by its own momentum into oncoming traffic. Pigeon suicide.

Two things crossed my mind:
1.) this can’t be a good sign
2.) what made it do that?

Could the pigeon have looked at its online 401K statement and felt that flying into a car was the only alternative?

At least it was a pigeon and not a stock broker. I’d mourn more for the pigeon though.

My husband is currently ranting about the sheet he received from the “sleep disorder” clinic. He’s never been able to sleep well, so he finally went to the doctor who referred him to the sleep disorder clinic. Before bed he’s suppose to either:

read a boring book
write in a journal

He’s claiming that these are women things, men don’t read books and they don’t journal. I can see how this is going to be a rousing success. I think I’ll get some ice cream to eat in bed so at least I have something tasty to eat while he’s ranting about not sleeping.

2 comments:

Khyra The Siberian Husky said...

Tell him to just get in touch with his inner woman -

Unless of khourse, he's so mucho macho he don't need no stinkin' sleep -

And if so, tell him to bukhk up butterkhup -

Khyra's Mom

Tracey and Huffle said...

At least you got him to go to the sleep clinic. So far I've failed on that front. Icecream sounds like a fine solution to your problem although I sense a stare-down will take place when her royal fluffiness sees it.

Pigeon suicide is not a bad thing. There are too many of those flying rats in the world anyway.