My cockatiel is eggbound and she can’t be left alone.
My shower caught fire and I had to leave my home.
My Uncle came to town, though he’s been dead for seven years.
My allergies are awful and I just broke down in tears.
I saw a hairy spider in the back seat of my car.
I have to help to skipper a New York garbage barg.
Tomorrow is the anniversary of my first smoked cigarette,
I’m dreaming up a list of other things that I regret.
I know it seems I’m making up some silly alibis,
but I’m not. I just can’t write today.
I mean, why would I lie?