I made it home. I slept on the plane as best I could in an aisle seat and with a restless three-year-old next to me (she has a cat named Boo-Boo and she misses him very much).
Holy crap, I'm exhausted. My shingles pain flared with a vengeance on the plane. Not sure what that's all about. Shortly after that started, I began shivering terribly. When I asked the flight attendant for a blanket, she looked at me, did a double take, and came back with two blankets followed by a cup of hot tea. I must have looked bad.
You know, I went back and looked at the post I did while deeply under the influence of Ambien. Besides the fact that I repeated myself, I was amazed by the radical deterioration of my typing abilities. Yikes.
OK, I am exhausted and all time-zone wacky. I need to lie down until I can think of something to say. I have an overwhelming three weeks ahead of me, and my job now is to figure out how I'm going to make that work. I also want to ponder how to write my thoughts about Wal-Mart. I spent quite a bit of time there this past week, and well, I just had some observations that will probably sound snide. Maybe more than probably.
May's brain is crispy now and she fears that given any more pressure, said brain will erupt in an ugly Bipolar Backlash. Hey, that would be a good name for a band.
What the hell was I just talking about again?
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
1 comment:
Rest well, friend.
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