Apparently I alarmed some friends and family with my blog post earlier today. The one where I wrote about feeling quarantined and having the blues. Some people thought is was a cry for help. It wasn't. It was just a bitey and sarcastic piece of drivel, similar to what comes off my keyboard at least once a week.
I should issue a disclaimer with every post, that I do not always write strictly the facts. Sometimes, not often, I make stuff up. Sometimes, often, I exaggerate. Sometimes, most often, I embellish, especially if it will make a better story.
I like to use hyperbole for dramatic or comic effect. I never promised that this blog would contain only non-fiction. I implied creative non-fiction. More latitude. Less fact checking. More fun.
Do not ever use the information posted here for research purposes or to compose a report for your middle school history class. Do not ever list me as a source of information in a bibliography. I am what they call an unreliable source even though I am published on the internet.
So...regarding the blues and the quarantine: I am not poised to jump off the Minnesota River bridge down by Whiskey River so don't send the rescue boats. I'd be more apt, if I got that far, to wander into the bar and order a glass of wine and a cheeseburger.
I still have a fairly firm grip on reality even though some days reality sucks. Who wants to read a blog that only spouts that Pollyanna sunshine BS all the time? That ain't real life, sister. It ain't all silver saddles and Sunday parades, as Johnny Bush used to say.
Tomorrow will be better. Hell, today will probably be better.