I'm A Fucking Bear

I have been sick now for just about a month. I am better, I believe, but still not well. From the anecdotal research I've done I probably have at least a month left to go, too. I have moved on from, "Woe is me I am so very sick!" to "Woe is my I have been sick for so very long." It is at this point, I believe, that laughter becomes an vital tonic. As I slogged through work yesterday trying to forget how crappy I felt and point myself toward the time when I could lie on my couch and pretend that breathing was still an involuntary activity I came across this photo.

My heart sang! I laughed. There might have been a little inappropriately placed pee. I love how operatic this bear looks, like he's singing the caption and ending on a strong high note. The Three Tenors have nothing on this dude. I love him. I shared it (don't have photo credit, though, if someone does please let me know so I can include it) and told people, not untruthfully, that it was how I felt after 8 days on the chatty prednisone. The conversation that ensued was lively and healing. Sara reminded me that here in the 'hood we have our very own bear, Stella.

That's when I was struck with an idea. Not being proficient enough to execute it on my own I enlisted Cat's help and voila!

I want t-shirts made up like this and I want all the dogs in the park to wear them. Some of the people, too.

And I want to keep laughing.