Monday, October 5, 2009

In the words of a dying old lady

If you're like me, when you read something you try to take on a bit of the person's character you're reading about. You know, hear the actual voice of the personality that you're reading about. Or is that just me?

Anyhoo, try to hear this voice in your mind as you read on... the voice of a seventy-something disgruntled and miserable elderly woman who has the most raspy smoker's throat you've ever heard.

Grandmother: "Well, I think I am at the end of my road."

Mom: "What is that supposed to mean?"

Grandmother: "Well, I just can't breath and I am out of oxygen, and Gene [my common-law husband of umpteen years is at work doing his greeter job at the Wal-Marts], and no one else will [drive hundreds of miles to] rescue me with a new bottle of oxygen [so I can keep smoking my cigarettes]. So if I die you just don't worry about it, I will just lie here until someone finds me."

A crotchety old lady wanting anyone and everyone to feel bad for her for since she's been smoking since she was a teenager and is now suffering with failing health. Sorry folks, I just don't feel bad for her type. Especially when she's always been a mean old lady! (And, yes... that is my grandmother I'm quoting. And, yes.... that's what she made me call her growing up, "Grandmother." She had deluded visions of grandeur which never materialized.)