My inlaws are in town and between entertaining family and my manic redecorating urges I just haven’t had time to write witty prose. I apologize.

If we don’t abuse them they really don’t feel like they’ve visited.

However I thought that to tide you all over I would include a list of some of the thoughts that have graced my cerebral cortex over the past week–just a sampling of what it’s like to be inside my skull. You should be warned that some of these thoughts are inappropriate. Many are disturbing and nonsensical. Some of you might not want to know me this well.

Ready? Alrighty, here we go:

• I’d be funnier if I was English…or black…or English and black…or is that like putting the positive sides of two batteries together?

• When I die I won’t be able to suck in my stomach. I’m going to look bloated and saggy. I hope I don’t die naked.

• What if I die in a public place and then everyone sees me crap myself and I’m not around to explain that I don’t normally do that?

• How would I ever date again now that I’m so gassy? What if I found love again but the guy was offended by farting? I think Hubs will be my only husband. If he dies I’ll live alone and make pottery.

• Is my face too old for my hair?

• Is my face too old for my dance moves?

• I should get derma planing. But what if they accidentally stabbed my eye and then everyone would know that I lost an eye because I was vain?

• What if I got a boob job and died on the table and then my kids would always think that boobs were more important to me than they were?

• Is my vagina attractive enough to do porn? What makes a vagina attractive enough to do porn? Is that a thing? Maybe anyone with a vagina can do porn.

• What if I was decapitated and then my face looked like one of those sad Nixon rubber masks?

• If I ever have to have chemo and lose my hair everyone will see all of the bumps on my head. I’d have to get a wig. I hate wigs. I hope I don’t get cancer in the summer.

• Do I have too many moles to wear a backless gown to the Oscars?

• Will the rats in the heating ducts give us all the Hanta Virus? Would Hubs get into trouble if he had to shoot one? What makes a suburban rat shooting legally justified? How do you repair bullet holes in hardwood floors?

• What if I’m on a road trip and break down in a place where I can earn the money for my car repair by winning a pole dancing contest but I’m not wearing nice underwear? Or I’m bloated?

• What if I’m in a car accident while on my period and I fall into a coma and then I get toxic shock because no one takes out my tampon?

• What if my heart stops and they have to use the paddles but they forget to take out my nose ring and it burns off my nostril?

• If I had to run for my life without any clothes on how would I contain the jiggle? I should become a self defense bad@ss so I never have to run for my life naked.

So there you have it: some of my thoughts. Yes, I worry too much about things that will probably never happen. And yes, I am at times alarmingly morbid, vain and shallow. I have occasionally endeavored to cut down on the sheer quantity of garbage that floats through my head. But then I worry that I’d be boring or, even worse, so happy and peaceful that I’d die like in Downton Abbey or that movie City of Angels. As a responsible parent I can’t let that happen. My children need me: f*cked up but alive.

Torture is love.