Been awhile

I was sick. Now I'm mostly better. I have whined enough.
Visited with family and had a great visit with dad, plated Dakar, took a short road trip and remortgaged the condo at a damn fine rate. I'm halfway through customizing the pattern for Abigail's wedding dress, I've at least started my taxes, and the nebulous plans for a kitchen seem to becoming a bit more tangible.

Yesterday I even made it to the pub to see my O'Hooligans, catch up on some lovin' from Miss Stacy, sunshine from Mistress Abigail, and hugs all'round Sang Nickless a happy bday at karaoke (it was all of us) - definitely not a solo performance. He had a pussy on his cake.

My desk is mostly caught up.

So why can I see nothing but this knee limping, muffin topped, waddle wagging, vulture-winged, bristly bitchy bitter old bag. Cause I am feeling old - a strange thing for me because I usually feel 8. The last few weeks mostly just sucked and not in a good way. A couple of hot flashes - my - THOSE are fun. The antibiotics I was on required me to eat 4 times a day and I'm sure that in the middle of trying to reduce the muffin top to tartlet size I have put on 10 pounds and nothing fits right now.

My favorite bra had a blowout and the wire actually scraped a gash in my side in its mad escape from my blouse, and the lingerie store has no replacements, nothing but horse harnesses = blech!!! It's not like I can go braless and still have a working back and any dignity. I have chocolate (70% cocoa sugar free) stashed in my purse/desk/backpack and I haven't done that in years, and I am sure I've smoked 4 packs of smokes since last Monday when I have been down to about a pack a week for the last 6 months.

But I did manage 6 minutes in the standup yesterday and that was fabulous.

Imagine you can now hear George Carlin's 7 words.