From the Department of Amateur Diagnostics

You know what’s annoying? This is annoying:

You: This [persistent medical issue] won’t go away. I’ve tried everything.

Dr. Internet: Have you tried [all the obvious solutions, plus a few barmy ones—snail detox, anyone? Crow liver cleanse?]?

Damn it, Internet. Sometimes, you just want to hear “man, that sucks.”


You know what’s depressing? Nobody buys pool noodles from the Dollarama. They’re there in the window, all happy and daft, waiting for fun in the sun. There’s buckets of them, pink ones and orange ones and bright Day-Glo yellow, and everyone acts like they’re not even there. Don’t they want to go swimming? Don’t they want chilly feet and chlorine in their noses, waterlogged lashes all dazzling with light? Don’t they want to be thirsty and seablind, and burned across their shoulders? Who wouldn’t want that?

Every day, they go in, and no-one buys a pool noodle.

I mean, I guess I could buy one. I have a pool. But I’m too old for noodles. I’d look foolish on a noodle.

I look foolish anyway.

I’d have to cross the road to get a noodle. I’m afraid of cars, and of being trapped, like if the crossing light broke, and I got stuck on the other side forever.

I should make it my mission to get a noodle. I could hit Mother on the head with it, as proof I went to the Dollarama. I told her I went one time, but she didn’t believe me. She was right not to believe me. I was lying.

What colour should I get?

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