So, I'm at home on a rainy gray Saturday. I have a cold. I just took some Dayquil. I need soup. Here that, interwebs? Send soup. Preferably wonton. Wonton is my chicken noodle soup of choice. I'm weird, ask anyone. Back to me having a cold. I don't feel well. My head's all fuzzy and I sneezed 42 times in a row last night and I sound like Stevie Nicks. Not in a good way. And I look bad. That's the worst part of a cold. My eyes are puffy and my hair looks like the morning after a bad night out at a disco circa 1977. This is not a good look. But my voice matches.
I've been playing on the interwebs all morning, trying to get motivated to write the ScrapFest newsletter (that has to actually make sense, so it's best I wait 'til I feel a little better). I went to the Google to look up the correlation between redheads and migraines, if there is one — but I didn't get that far — because I typed "redheads are" instead of "and" and lookie what popped up in the autocomplete.
Redheads Are Not The Freshest Produce In The Aisle is SO the title of my new book. That I haven't written. But that's okay.
By the way, I can tell you from personal experience that redheads are not aliens (well, not most of us. I'm talking to you, Nicole Kidman!), redheads are better, redheads are not descended from cats, redheads ARE going extinct, we're definitely trouble, more sensitive to pain, we are not alien-human hybrids, and we are not mutants. And most of that is true most of the time.
kerryfaler.blog 