I am eating stuffed salmon and drinking buttery, okay chardonnay.

My doctor is now officially a smart-ass.

I called to say that I was getting better but still on the mend and so could I please have more flexeril cause my samples are out tomorrow.

He calls me back. At work.

"I'm confused."

"Why?"

"I thought you were feeling better?"

"Why?"

"Well I am calling you and you're at work."

Sigh... I took off every bit of time he gave me but then decided that I should maybe not get fired so I am working in some pain... And I am getting better, just slowly. Which frustrates me a whole lot more than it frustrates him I bet.

Oh, and he called in the Flexeril. Offered me more samples but his office is not on the way home.

Quite the Jewish jokester, he is...

Hey Ms. Cass, is this weekend on the map for your raincheck, or should we give you more time flat on your back (paging SPP...) recovering before trying to have a playdate?

{{{Jilli}}}

50g olive oil equal to about 20 mg ibuprofen in painkilling efficacy. (So not quite a replacement therapy. But still cool!)

{{{Jilli}}}

Here, this should give everybody a chuckle (it's a pic of me with the Conundrum from X-Files): [link]

And for Hec, back of my recent haircut. It may not be as short as some, but I chopped of a few inches: [link]

And for Hec, back of my recent haircut. It may not be as short as some, but I chopped of a few inches: [link]

Good color, good nape. Good choice, I say.

Glommcookie is very, very cute. That is all.

And for Hec, back of my recent haircut

Oh, sweetie, I want that color!!!!

{{{Jilli}}}

Interview went OK, I think. I liked the people I'd be working with. They're interviewing 5 people, though, and trying to make a decision before the boss leaves for Europe next week. So I'm going to email my thank you and then try to forget about it as best I can.

Right now I'm feeling generally pessimistic, but it's probably just a post-adrenaline crash or something.