More PTI and Pity Party

No challenge card today, just sharing a card I made while I was using the PTI Framed set for the March blog hop.  It's VERY CAS!

Please enjoy ~ and thank you for stopping by. Special thanks to you if you took the time to leave me a comment! Have a wonderful Monday, wherever you are!

P.S. Pity Party.  Here's a personal sob story I sent off to a friend via email.  I thought you might enjoy my humorous escapade.  I say humorous because I know from life experience that someday soon I will be able to laugh about it.  It always ends thus, and isn't that a wonderful thing?!

Mister and I went on our bimonthly visit to Costco Sunday.  For an old couple, just the two of us, we spend amazing amounts of money at Costco.   I have no idea what COSTCO means, assuming it's an acronym.  My personal belief is that it means this:

<><> <><>

"Come! On! Spend! This! Cashier's! Open!" ©Darnell J. Knauss

 

We made it through the first quadrant, couldn't find men's underwear in the right size, stopped at the booze (natch), got through the maze of snackies, cheeses, produce, and on to the icebox section.  To me that icebox section is a pure torture room.  I run in there like a bunny, grab up two romaine lettuce packs - who cares if they're brown - and dash out.  Too late, my giblets are frozen.

On we went to dairy, then paper goods where we overloaded the cart with enough toilet paper and tissue to wallpaper all the trees in town, and to the frozen dinners, meats, and desserts.  I should say mister went through the frozen aisles, searching for his beloved meatballs.  By now I'm parked in the corner, "You go look!" I whispered, still shaking with cold.  Of course, no surprise, he came back without them.  Sheepish, but still a nitwit.  God did not give men the ability to see past their,  er,  noses.  So, off I go to the rescue.  I did not run.  I walked purposefully, but not fast.  I am a cuddly soft round woman, the opposite of athletic.  But I do go to Curves, and Zumba (for Seniors), and I am able to walk.  Honest. Unless I have a snoot-full, and I did not have a snoot-full.  Plus, I did not walk too fast because I needed to be able to swivel my head, with its giant brain, from one side to the other to check both sides of the aisle.  I made it down the first aisle, around the end cap, and was halfway up the next aisle when I stepped on a pile of air.

Yes, that's right.  Air!  That is not a typo.  I did not change my step, there was nothing on the floor.  But when my right leg stepped down, my back broke.  Seriously, something went kerflooey somewhere and I stopped dead in my tracks from the pain.  It exploded from the center of the low back, out along the right hip and down both the front and the back of my right leg.  Because I stepped on an Air Ball!  Why me?  Who even does this?  Who's ever heard of it?  Had an Air Cat been there earlier, coughing up that Air Ball?  And What The Hell snapped inside me?!

Actually it's all mister's fault, him and his meatballs.  And did I stop?  Neewp, neewp.  Of course not.  A mere pause to catch my breath and do some keegles, if you know what I mean.  I forged ahead as women do.  There were three more aisles up and then down and there, at the last one, on the end cap where no one ever looks, were the flippin meatballs!

I spent the rest of yesterday on a heating pad, popping Tylenol with Codeine.  It was a rough night, but today, if I lock into a certain position, I'm good.  Until I get up.  Don't ever get old!