Ho Hum

I don't think I've felt this blah, meh, ho hum in pretty much ever about a Sunday in for as long as I can remember. Right now, I feel like I'm pretty much the most frequent guest that the Ho Hum Motel has ever seen.

I can't put my finger on it. It's not like it's been a bad Sunday. It's been fine. And by fine, I don't use it in that terror-inducing way a wife uses it at, say, the end of a heated discussion. You hear 'fine,' and you if you have any hope of survival happiness, know it's anything but fine and that you make it better than fine post-haste.

Like I said, it's been a good day of getting religion and taking it easy. It's just been really, really ho hum. I need to make sure that this is not a harbinger of things to come. Ho hum does not agree with me and I try to be at least moderately self-aware. So I've got to take control on this one.

With the horror that is the Partridge Family singing "C'mon, get happy!" rattling around in my head, it is time to check out of the Ho Hum Motel, with a commitment never to return. Adieu, blahs, adieu.