Sunday, February 19, 2006 I've made a nest of blankets in my favorite chair.
Right just a second ago, I was having this sleuthing conversation with myself about why the dinner roll I was eating out of a paper bag tasted like sugar for a nibble every now and then. The girl detectives that live inside me decided that cough syrup had dried on my lips, adding a layer of flavor to anything that brushed them. I licked my lips, and I was right.
Just now just now, I realized that the dinner rolls (for there are more!) share a small paper bag with a scone, so I was wrong, too. I have learned an important lesson about humility.
Oh, I'm eating rolls out of a paper bag on the floor because I got sudden-onset ebolabetes. My friend Leah, who once had a blog and now does secret things, said that if it were true ebolabetes, I'd have to inject myself with ebola every few hours and avoid pancakes. I said, "gross." Or something. I don't know. I could look it up, because it's all on IM anyway, but I won't, because clicking hurts.
Sitting hurts. Lying down hurts worst of all. No, boredom hurts most of all.
Not saying I'm bored. I am not saying you are a gold digger.
Last night I went to a divorce party. It was great! We all got divorces!
No, we all got snacks. The best was a cake that mimicked the look of a full catbox. It came with a serving scooper that said "Here's to no more dealing with SHIT." The scooper may have been wishful, because into each life a gentle rain of shit must fall, but I liked the scooper's gumption. posted by Frenz | 2/19/2006 07:07:00 PM
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