No post today, because it’s snowing—SNOWING—and the barometric pressure in the big ball of pain I’m calling my head is giving me the bends, and I’m cold because I gave Jane my gloves and Sunny my scarf in the car this morning because we were not prepared and they get recess and I don’t.
Plus, I grabbed the wrong coat from the Closet o’ Forgotten Winterwear—or rather, the right coat with the three buttons that I’ve been meaning to sew back on since mid-March, as it turns out there is no such thing as a Button Fairy.*
Or a Dry Cleaning Fairy, either.
I also had a ‘flu shot today, so I’m slightly nauseated, which no one really wants to hear about in any detail, and my arm hurts, too, because the city nurse does not mess around.
And all I want to do is go home and make hot tea—I’ve had enough w(h)ine already, I think—and bundle up on the couch under every blanket we own to re-watch Joss Whedon’s Much Ado About Nothing, with commentary this time.
Which is pretty much all I have to offer today—nothing, with commentary.
I’ll do better tomorrow.
Probably.
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* Or maybe there is, but she’s armed with a tiny pair of scissors and a juvenile sense of humor, instead of a needle and a benevolent nature. She was probably corrupted by the Toilet Paper Fairy, who went to the dark side about the time I left home and started buying my own household supplies—though that’s probably just a coincidence.
Earful of Cider 