1) Mrs. G. is going to have to temporarily unplug from the 24 hour news cycle. Mr. G. gently suggested this when he came upon her in the kitchen repeatedly stabbing a paring knife into an orange bell pepper while listening to NPR.
2) Mrs. G's daughter told her last night that anyone who is not watching RuPaul's Drag Race is missing out. It has nothing to do with souped up automobiles, though technically there is a dragstrip.
3) Mrs. G's worst nightmare has materialized while she is wide awake. Despite a spotless history of avoiding any object within the general ballpark of her butt, due to recent stomach issues her doctor has scheduled her for a colonoscopy. Don't bother reassuring her she will be knocked out during the procedure. When you have dedicated your life to safeguarding your ass, Mrs. G. has no doubt no matter how deep under anesthesia she is shoved, she will sense the violation.
4) Mrs. G. hopes and prays the panty liner that escaped from her granny panties last Saturday -- she doesn't even know what she hopes and prays. There is no good, dignified ending to this sort of situation. She hasn't quit thinking about it since she discovered the getaway, the Carefree little bastard.
Why, Jesus, why? This seems like a particularly humiliating cross to bear. Couldn't you have just let it get stuck in Mrs. G's pant's leg?
5) Mrs. G. hung out with her friend Ann on Saturday night and watched movies. They each have their own blanket and stake out their traditional spots on her sectional. In one film (Up in the Air) there was a lot of partying go on, partying that looked pretty fun. "We should party more," Mrs. G. told Ann. Then they both laughed. Dear Ann, if you happened to find a rogue panty liner in your house, Mrs. G. has no idea where it came from.