Sign that the time change is doing my brain in:

I'm eating popcorn at my desk. I've only got a desk lamp on in the office. I reach for a little piece of popcorn and have it almost to my mouth when I realize it's fuzzy. I say outloud, "Do not eat the lint, Connie."

Fortunately no one is around to hear me.

#1 song on my birthday - MacArthur Park. Ha!

Do they leave your cake out in the rain?

Do they leave your cake out in the rain?

Don't taunt Jessica - she'll never have that recipe again....

Oh! Kathy- I agree that popping popcorn in the big pot over the stove is SO DELICIOUS. Tom made some a couple weeks ago and it was like heaven. I was a bit startled at how good it was- it was like whoa, simple pleasures!

He sprinkled Old Bay on his popcorn, but I kept it traditional.

I didn't do it, Laura. I swear. I wouldn't have sent this ick to people I don't like, never mind people I love.

All right. I'm going to complain now. I don't need hairpats, or hugs, or even sympathy. I need to vent and get it off my chest, and move forward. This is angry venting, not poor poor pitiful me venting.

The other day, y'all knew how my back was behaving badly, right? The next day, my right thigh muscle felt like a rock. It was painfully sore, as if I'd undertaken a strenous exercise program the day before. But I hadn't. It hurt to do everything, but I didn't mention it here, because I know I'm sick of listening to me, so y'all must be, too.

I believe I hurt it in an effort not to hurt my back more, and that's okay. The day after, it was a little sore, but better. TODAY, I hurt (re-hurt) my neck. I either slept wrong on my magical pillow (although it felt okay when I first woke up), or turned my head wrong (when I finally decided to get up, because my lower back was hurting), or something.

Now my shoulder hurts too. I am wearing my collar and am going to have to get off the computer because typing seems to be exacerbating it. This would be okay, because I have plenty to do, and am I'm used to the neck thing, and it will get better eventually... BUT I haven't had a non assachey day in over a month, now, so I'm getting that nibbled to death by ducks feeling. AND ALSO?

I came up with the best idea for a story, this morning. Better than I've had in two years, and easier to write than the one I came up with two years ago. And now I can't write it because of all the duck nibbles.

If it wouldn't require a trip to a butcher, I'd make roast duck tonight, just for the metaphorical revenge.

I'm sorry, Cindy. Pain just wears you down.

My mother is much better today. She's off the catheter. They're going to let her eat something. More importantly, they're going to let her have coffee.

I'd make roast duck tonight, just for the metaphorical revenge.

See, people think revenge tastes sweet, but apparently it tastes like duck.

Looks like an all around craptastic Monday morning in Buffistaland today. Might be a good day to crawl into the bunker and shut the door.

ugh, Cindy. I know very well that feeling of JUST FREAKING WORK STUPID BODY AND STOP HURTING.

I wish I could bring you a duck. Also, where is your butcher? (because I don't have one except for the dudes at Whole Foods)