If you're shopping for fridges, you'd be remiss not to take this report into consideration.
Man, I carefully sorted my meds this morning and forgot to put the pack in my bag. I have two med packs, and the other one has some meds, so I won't panic or bolt home in rush hour traffic, but DAMN. This is my life. Why can't I work it?
::goes back to pill finder::
Thank you Steph. Sending soon.
::brushes blue confetti off of Steph's desk::
There are currently two reply-all conversations going on in my work email.
My cubemate just fired up a bag of kettle corn, the kind that gave me a migraine when I tasted it back in the day, and my brain is insisting I can smell artificial sweeteners now (and that they're triggers, natch). I KNOW I CAN'T. But, in conjunction with the missing meds, maybe it's time to check my phone to see how long it'll take to get home. And back!
I'm mildly disappointed that when I got to my car my up-to-date pill case was on the front passenger seat. If a weekday was made for hooky, this is it. It's GORGEOUS outside. Bright and sunny, weather in the 80s (forecast says 90s). Wouldn't have been the awfullest to blow a lunch break on driving home and getting today's self portrait in natural light.
However, I will make sure to not just eat lunch outside the office today, but to eat it on a restaurant patio. This is why LA.
Heh. Protesters outside of Toronto City Hall are singing Amy Winehouse's "Rehab".