speaking of disjointed and cranky

I was told there would be no math. I was also told that I could go back to "work" within two weeks after surgery. Please explain to me how I can effectively carry out my duties as house manager when I cannot carry heavy objects nor lift my arms over my head? Hello? Grocery bags? Rakes and spring cleaning? Laundry baskets that need to go up and down the stairs? Do these baskets have wings at your house? Do your dogs walk themselves?

Speaking of math, my house contains a puzzle geometry has yet to solve: how do you fold sheets without lifting your arms over your head?

Speaking of puzzles, there are three young adult-ish people in my house who produced three dramatic incidents in an hour. I think a truce has been called. Now there are three bags of jelly beans sitting on the kitchen counter, unopened, calling my name. What problems in my world would NOT be solved by three bags of jelly beans? If there are any, perhaps a chaser of Peeps and a soupcon of chocolate bunny would clean up any loose ends . . . .

And speaking of small things, why is the font on either of my monitors so small that I have to tip my head up in a useless attempt to view said screens from the very bottoms of my progressive reading glasses? Thank goodness the evil Google empire lets me adjust the font on this page. I don't give a rip what information they are storing up about me as long as I can read my email without getting a stiff neck.

Harumph.

Liz