Everyone should check out the blog that this links to...she's one funny mama!
Because it looked like fun...and I needed something to cheer me up...and because my remote desktop for work has decided to seize up on me. Maybe it's a sign that I should be in bed and not working. You know, being sick and all.
I woke up yesterday feeling like I had been run over by a Mack truck, hit by a train, and then had the rest of me hewed up by the blades of a helicopter. I have to be pretty sick to be feeling that bad. I should know, because I birthed a 9 pound baby in about 8 hours with no drugs and then popped a couple of Advil afterwards. I can handle pain. So if I'm feeling this awful, something ain't right. And what sucks even more is that it would happen on Monday and Tuesday, my two busiest days at work. And the guy who could cover for me is out on vacation. AWESOME week I'm having so far...
Maybe it's because I'm sick, but I am about to throttle my neighbors. They slam their door every. single. time. they go in or out and it's causing stuff to fall off walls and shelves in our apartment. Seriously, five times in as many minutes is a bit much. I wish I could blame it on their teen-aged daughter, but I know that her folks are just as bad. How do you tell someone in a nice way to stop slamming the door? [sigh] It's not making my head feel any better, that's for sure.
My lemon tree is blooming like crazy. It did this last year and then a huge storm blew in and knocked off all the bloom so I ended up with no lemons. I moved the tree to the least windiest spot on our third floor balcony, but I'm super paranoid now that I might lose any chance of making any of the lemon recipes I've been harboring through the last year. I'm already dealing with an infestation of scale insects, so hopefully the gods of horticulture will be nice to me this year. Please please please, just let me have three lemons. I'll even take two. Hell, if I can get just one, I will dance a jig of joy.
And speaking of jigs, tomorrow is St. Patty's day! I'm hoping I feel well enough to actually partake in our annual Irish feast with Michael's cousin Stephen. He does it up right... lamb, boxty, colcannon, and Irish car bombs. If I have the energy, I will even contribute homemade soda bread and Irish apple cake. Ooooh, or black and tan brownies as seen in this month's Cooking Light. It's good to be an Irish-American, even if we do make the feast of St. Patrick a drinking contest. Even if I don't make it, Michael's mom is taking Sybilla overnight and into Thursday morning which means a night of uninterrupted sleep. If my neighbors don't slam the doors, do housecleaning, or their techno workout video at 3 am...
On that note...I need food. And it's time to pick up the munchkin and some more meds. [sigh]