Ghost writer imagination
Scary whisper: It’s me, the ghostwriter. I think my hairstyle is perfectly pictured. As I suspected yesterday, we’re completely DEAD today… So you’re only imagining this. There is nothing written here. Dead people can’t write.
I really could have died yesterday, because I did quite a nasty fall in the stairs. Don’t ask me how I did manage to not fall down all the way, I guess it was pure survival power. The cause of the stumble was that they had put a metallic baseboard on the edge of each step in the stairs and that was slippery. I was protecting my back so much that I ended up falling down on my knees - several steps down. Pheeew!
Today my hole body is aching, as I’ve been in training camp for some elite competition… Nah… I would never do that, because they all are on a diet, aren’t they? That’s not possible for hungry monsters like me. It’s out of the question.
If I shall be exhausted it better be some more fun causes like sightseeing in other countrys, party’ing….or… [insert your imagination here]
Yesterdays concert was really nice, not the best one we’ve been to, but still nice. The best concert we’ve been to was Bo Kaspers Orkester (a swedish band) and Smokie last year.
And NO answer from the doc today. Maybe I am dead and that’s why he didn’t find it necessary to call? After all, my body seems to fall apart piece by piece, disappearing gradually….
I have never been a Mommy, but now I can be satiesfied of being a Mummy ;-)
