How Far Out Are You?

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Life With A Funeral Director is groovy…man. Like, it’s so far out…man. Like I’m just chill all the time…man….

Right?

Nope.

On my commute home tonight, my funeral director called me – “How far out are you?”

I stifled my desire to say, “way far out…man…” and gave him the real kind of answer he was looking for – “15 minutes.”

“Alright, I got a house call, I’ll tell the girls you’ll be here in 15. See you later.”

“Yup, see you later. Love you.”

“Love you too, bye.” Click.

I’m far out…man. About 15 minutes away from my house when a call comes in and he has to go. That was more than two hours ago. I haven’t seen my funeral director since 7 a.m. It’s 8:23 p.m. as I write this. This is life with a funeral director.

Far out…man.

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