Crown me, mean Mr. D!

Have you ever heard that old expression: “Don’t get your bowels in an uproar?” No? Well you just heard it.

If you don’t know already, the phrase means don’t get all upset. Except in my case. That is because mine are in an uproar.

I know it’s not polite conversation to talk about matters such as the “DIE-ree-uh” word. But when you got to go …

This afternoon I was out doing some field work and, oh my, I’m glad my place isn’t too far. I passed a police car parked as if it might be looking for speeders. I might have been going over the limit a bit. I just didn’t want him to stop me because he’d never believe me. Well, he might, but I don’t want to think about it.

I took two sick hours and here I am at home. I don’t know what it is exactly causing my problem. The affliction visiting this afternoon is pretty rare for me. I think that might be because I have to take a synthetic opioid  pretty often for pain.

But, I will get better. I might have to curl up into a ball and spend some time on the porcelain throne first. But get better I will.