Pale-Painful-Pink

Sore throat, aching joints, stuffy nose, swollen tonsils, and a possible fever. I think that sums up my symptoms. I was just bragging the other day about not being sick! Why do I jinx myself, just when things are going well? I am a doof-to-the-us. I just drank the nastiest powdered drink in history. I am sure you have heard of it or at least taken it. My norm, Airborne is all gone, so I had to settle for that Emergen-C drink which happens to be a whopping, 1,000 milligrams of vitamin C, and contains 32 mineral Complexes and 7 Mineral Ascorbates. Wait a minute...am I getting paid for this?

Anyhoo, onto more important things. I have been helping paint our new offices at work a lovely shade of hot cocoa and a mint-esque accent color. (I somewhat contribute this sickness to the below zero temperatures at work.) The colors put me in mind of a fresh new Starbucks. They are quite lovely, actually. (O.k. now I sound British!) The color before we painted is what I would call, pale-painful-pink. It was one of those colors that your eyes are straining to figure out if it was white at one point in time. Picture an old hospital room with bad lighting.

I am ecstatic that pale-painful-pink is history; I can’t wait for this sickness to be.

Yours Truly,

Stephanie

Stick a fork in it, this Turkey is Done!

I have eaten, and eaten, and eaten! Why is it that on Thanksgiving we find it acceptable to gorge ourselves with food? I have never been so miserable in my entire life! I am not even stepping near a scale! I have had turkey, ham, rolls, various patato dishes, green beens, corn, cheeseballs,cheesecakes, pies, homemade fudge, and atleast three gallons of sweet tea. The list could go on, but I am getting sick thinking about it. Due to divorced parents, step parents, inlaws, and friends I had several Thanksgiving dinners. You know what they say about turkey making you sleepy? It is true, I have slept on average ten hours per night and have fought the urge to nap during the day. I begged nearly a dozen people to go shopping with me this morning since of course it is, "Black Friday," and all. No one would go! I guess they were eating or napping. So, when the work day was over I talked the hubby into going. 10 giftcards and a bag of stuff for ourselves later, we took our sorry, broke butts home!

Lucille Ball and Borat.

My name is Borat...if he said it one more time, I might have killed him. What a match we were. He wanted me to be the fat hairy guy from Borat and I wanted him to be Ricky Ricardo. You see how well that turned out. Doesn't every girl want to be a fat, balding, hairy guy for Halloween? Maybe next year...