Dear Darling Ones,

You should know that my parents did not leave last night until 8:30 p.m. They really needed to debrief about my dad’s angiogram and the continuing hunt for a solution about why he’s randomly fainting and falling (last month he fell in the bathroom and broke his arm). I talked a lot of politics with my parents last night, mostly about Turnip having COVID and a little bit about the Shakopee School Levy that’s up for a vote.

In a surprising move, the man who is quite proud for never having registered to vote in his 70 years on this planet said, “Give them the money. We need to give all the money to education they want.”

I don’t disagree, but I was just surprised that came out of my dad’s mouth. Anyway, I was so hungry the entire time they were here I left my body for a little while.

So yeah, I had to work all fucking day today. Is that 100% my fault? Yes. Did I get the thing done that I procrastinated on all week. Also yes.

This is a minor miracle because I’ve been up since whatever time the Duck Hunters start hunting. Ass Early o’Clock. I don’t know if the Hunters are on the Shakopee Mdewakanton Sioux reservation up the road or if they’re on Lake O’Dowd, up a different road. All I know is I can hear their guns from my bedroom. They are loud enough to rouse me from sleep but not so loud that I’m terrified about the gunshots. I hear them every year from the last weekend in September up until about the middle of October. I’m pretty sure I complain about it every year too. It’s nice to have traditions.

That’s all I got for today. This new season of Schitt’s Creek on Netflix isn’t gonna watch itself.

Ew,
Jodi