I don’t have a post today, y’all. I barely have brain function, and therefore apologize for whatever comments I’ve scattered among the Interwebz today and whatever replies I might have made to your comments here.
I’ve been up to my alligators in asses since early this morning, my inbox kept refilling itself,* I discovered in the middle of a meeting that my elbow has eaten a hole in my only professional-looking top, and sometimes there’s not enough diet Pepsi and Cadbury creme eggs in the world.
In short, it’s been one of those days for which the term Monday was redefined, and the only thing keeping me upright and smiling is Averil’s great news and my new nail polish, which is a stunning metallic green—speaking of professional—that was treated with a magnet after application to form a wave pattern. It’s like wearing lime-ribbon Christmas candy on my fingertips, and I defy anyone to be glum while wearing this stuff.
Tacky—and holey—but cheerful, that’s me.**
I do have tomorrow off—I’m working Saturday this week***—so I’m hoping to be able to drum up a Real Post by tomorrow afternoon and get my half of a co-project sent out and maybe another chapter of Pigeon done and dusted.
Hope, as Sunny said the other day, springs a turtle.
*Aren’t staples supposed to be paperwork prophylactics? If not, someone should seriously get on that.
**The image isn’t my nail, if you’re wondering—the one time I wanted my thumb in a photograph and the flash kept screwing up the results. I’d try one with the flash off, but Janie’s the only one who knows how and she’s at softball practice.
***And therefore will not be able to drive to Ohio to see my nephew as the Wicked Witch of the West in his high school production of the Wizard of Oz. So I’m sending a bottle of the nail polish instead.