A Typical Day in the Life of a Doha Dame

I woke up this morning stretching into reality, oh, I do still live in Doha. Making my way drearily down the stairs, I head straight to the coffee that David has so lovingly prepared for me. Oops, not today. I have to take that dreaded Sally Fields pill, aka Boniva. If you only knew how much I disdain that pill. It's only once a month, but no drinking or eating for an hour after taking it. Do you know how long an hour is in Doha time? I down the dang pill and look longingly at my awaiting coffee while setting my timer. I think about going to workout. I turn on Fox news to see what late breaking earth shattering news I'm missing. Another live broadcast of a plane with a faulty tire circling the L.A. airport only to land thirty minutes later smoother than any landing I've experienced. Hmm, the V.P. nominee elect's daughter is pregnant. Oooh, that is a bit earth shattering. I think about going to workout. I check my email...Aunt Marge must still be evacuated. Looks like all my email buddies are evacuated. Yoohoo, Grandaddy in Tennessee...did you evacuate, too? No exciting emails, unless Viagra is your thing. I think about going to workout. I check the obituariess from my local online newspaper. That's so sad. Is that what old people do, check the obits daily? Everyone seems to be alive and well. Well, not actually, I just didn't know anyone listed. Ahh, the buzzer is buzzing signaling coffee time. I savor my first cup, and then have my toast and eggs with the next. I think about going to workout. I try to think of what in the world can today's blog be about. No brilliant musings come to mind, so I give into that pesky little exercise monitor screaming in my ear. Later, y'all. I'm gone to workout.

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