Well, it’s happened again. The folks at Publishers Clearing House sent me a message that “A winner has been chosen.” How fantastic. If it’s not me, I really could not care less. So, last Friday was the day fated for my big check to arrive, but, get this, it didn’t. No large vehicle pulled up out front, with crews unloading lights, cameras, and balloons. I did not even answer the door. I saw no reason to smile broadly or cry out joyfully. Two years ago, I informed my faithful readers that I felt really, really close to the big payday. Well, hourly updates were coming in for the last two weeks from PCH. I’ve been working hard to maintain my Presidential Preferred Status by buying only essentials like cushioned jar openers. It’s all a big mystery because I know they have a map to my house. There it is, on each announcement, surrounded by the lots of happy people in PCH blazers, tossing fistfuls of cash into the air. But, once again, nothing but disappointment.
I'm Thinking...No! 