For the sake of brevity

And brevity being the soul of wit, I have renamed Mal the Magic Plastic Tuna for reasons known to only a handful of people.  Magic Plastic Tuna sums up her perpetually unhappy weltanschauung.  And that is the best word to describe her outlook.  Only the German language can justly describe the world according to Magic Plastic Tuna.  I have never in all my years met someone as consistently unhappy and intent on spreading that unhappiness far and wide.  So today when a co-worker was announcing that Dairy Queen was offering free ice cream cones I felt for certain she would shoot back with some dismal argument about poor suffering dairy cows being force milked to provide a treat for the non-bovine amongst us.  I was, however, wrong (imagine that).  Still tomorrow is another day and festering injustices may take a while to surface.  So here's to you Magic Plastic Tuna Lady.  Try and spoil spring for everyone.

Today I found I owe a shit load of moolah to the IRS for taxes.  That was unwelcome news.  Still I have to pay it back.  But, in the spirit of engaging in our economic recovery I am buying a washer and dryer today for the new house.  Sophie Handleman wants the old ones from the house, as well as the old sofa from the condo.  I'll have Brad run it over to her.  After plunking down money on the laundry room my guy Dan is coming over and we will discuss finances as well as terminating my current cleaning lady.  Then I may be wasted for the night.  Money angst of my own may take over and I will need to order in a pizza tonight.  As it is it will be a long day, having only gotten three hours of sleep last night.  And then fasting blood work this morning that gave me a headache as I couldn't have my caffeine before the tests.  And now I am stressing about the IRS.  Oh, well.

So that is the mid-day update.  Nothing magical about my plastic tuna, which is the bane of civilization...much worse than climate change, racism, poverty etc. etc.  Plastic Tunas.  I may name my next band that.  The Magical Plastic Tunas.  Songs for the Apocalypse.