FedEx just delivered my goddamn wheelchair.

You’ll have to bear with me for a while. I’m busy eating three amazing fried pies from The Original Fried Pie Shop, a featured vendor at Mesquite’s newest designer truck stop and food mall, Fuel City. A couple of hours ago Sam did a drive-by at Fuel City and came home with a box of tacos and three sugar-free fried pies, which we’ve been stuffing relentlessly into our mouth holes without coming up for air. This seems like an appropriate activity while we wait for FedEx Freight to deliver my Drive Medical Sentra Extra-Wide Bariatric Wheelchair for Big Butts. Please pass the napkins.

Fried pies are a Texas culinary tradition.

Hi, y’all, from the Howdygram headquarters nerve center! It’s 2:15 a.m., Sam’s in bed and I’ve got a swell middle-of-the-night cup of Lipton tea heating up in my tiny new microwave. I have the best-equipped study in Texas, people, I swear to God. This room has EVERYTHING.

Einsteins walk among us.

I rarely (if ever) begin a Howdygram post with a sentence like this, so brace yourself: MONDAY WAS A DAY FROM THE PIT OF HELL, peppered with the misdeeds of Einsteins far and wide. Here’s the complete rundown in neat, subtitled paragraphs. I will attempt to type and consume an Idahoan instant mashed potato cup simultaneously because it’s never too early to practice for the senior citizen Olympics.

Don’t tell Sam that my new wheelchair is being delivered tomorrow on a 104-pound pallet.

There’s something seriously wrong with me today because my brain is fogged-in. After taking my 8 a.m. dose of Norco I’m slurring my words, I can’t hold a thought, I want to take a nice hot shower but I’m not sure I can walk all the way to the master bathroom, the toes on my right foot are numb and I want a couple of Schwan’s corn dogs for breakfast. I can’t explain any of this but thank you for paying attention.