(no subject)

It's been two hours and 49 minutes since my last pain med--that's 50 minutes longer than I've been able to go over the last couple weeks. I think I can hear my liver putting on a little party hat and throwing confetti around.

This is good, since tonight I'll be walking across Brookline to get to my work-mandated (well, "highly recommended") Time Management/Organize Your Life adult ed course. Whee, yippee. It's timely, though. I really need to sit down with my calendar and look at what I want to/need to accomplish, if not in my life, at least over this summer.

I'm in one of my periodic "Am I in a rut?" moods.

This is usually a sign I need a chocolate frappe.

Of course, in the right mood I can interpret the fact that I inhale oxygen as a sign that I need a chocolate frappe.

So there you go.

Suddenly I feel like I've slipped into the writing mode of one of niecystrips's confessionals.

I could take the advice of one of the patrons in Pensacola. While I was shilling for the fire show, he grinned and say "Boy, you shud be in front of a whorehouse!" I *think* it was a compliment...