Contractions like the one in my title (and subsequently in the daily prompt below) annoy the heck outta’ me. Really, what’s being contracted never oughta’ be contracted ina’ first place. Did we all suddenly become Cockneys? Today the good folks at the Daily Post ask the following:
Tell us about something you know you should do . . . but don’t.
They ask this question under the headline “Shoulda’, Woulda’, Coulda'”. I’m surprised they didn’t throw gouda in just for good measure. Come to think of it, I really like gouda cheese, especially the smoked variety. The first thing that came to mind was that I “shoulda'” gone to a different priest for my ashes today. I managed to get the one guy who could make my forehead even more visible to the crew of the International Space Station. In all seriousness, there is one very obvious thing that’s been eating away at my brain for the past day or so. I should have done this thing but didn’t. No, I didn’t forget St. Valentine’s Day. My wife never really lets me do anything for her anyway so I have to sneak around to buy a card and flowers are definitely forbidden. I do believe most men would jump for joy to be in my position. I, however, actually like doing things for my wife. But that’s tomorrow either way so there are no worries on that front. The thing I’ve been meaning to do is to, lame as it sounds, return some library books. You see, they are inter-library loan books that I took out for the classes I’m taking and I want to be able to take out books on this basis in the near future. One of the five is overdue. I was thrown off because it came in later than it was supposed to and thus needed to be returned within two weeks. The school term lasts ten weeks. I’ll have to figure something out.
Also, I should have gone into a completely different career than the one I’m in. It’s fun; but fun isn’t the end-all of life.
Finally, I should lose about twenty pounds of ugly fat. Unfortunately, cutting off my head is not an option.