Sometimes when we are feeling troubled by Life Confusions and are running The Worrywart Fever, we begin drafting an open letter to God. We write out all of our troublesome woes. And it usually goes something like this:
Dear Oprah,
Why do weekends consist of only two actual full days? How do people make those ship-stuffed-in-a-bottle things? What's the answer to figuring out the Rubix Cube? Thank you. You look great by the way.
Your Biggest Fan,
Fran
Yet we don't always get the answer back the want we want 'em (instantly through our t.v. screen c/o Harpo Productions). Which is why we kinda like this approach to Life Scaresies via our current BOC:
There's no trouble in the world so serious.
that it can't be cured with a hot bath.
a glass of whiskey.
and the Book of Common Prayer.
-Eat Pray Love
that it can't be cured with a hot bath.
a glass of whiskey.
and the Book of Common Prayer.
-Eat Pray Love
So pass us the bath salts and our prayer book. Bottoms up.
*f
*f
1 comment:
brillant post. love it more than the book. (and I loved the book!)
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