My heart leapt when the alarm went off, knowing I didn't have to get up RIGHT NOW; George Bailey was sitting in front of Henry F. Potter asking for $8000 like a miserable little clerk crawling in on his hands and knees.
I then put together our riceless unstuffed cabbage with pork and beef lo-carb dinner just before my lost insulin package arrived via the nice UPS man.
We are now enjoying a mild restful evening; I am listening to Bambi while I type.
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