A surgeon with no hands is like an angel without wings.
An angel without wings is like a person who hasn't died yet.
A person who hasn't died yet is like me.
I can't say the thought, or even the desire, hasn't occurred to me over the last few days. I stood in the shower this morning thankful that I could be vertical long enough to take one, because y'all....Pee You. I couldn't smell a jalapeno right now if you shoved one up my nose, but I could smell the stench of sick all over myself. Afterward I spritzed on a tiny bit of cologne and I'm assuming it smells nothing like Eau De Barfume. You're welcome, housemates.
There seems to be light at the end of the tunnel, and when I get to it I am going to eat a cheeseburger french fry pizza topped off with a lasagna BLT because mama is hungry, yo.
I made myself some beads last week for my Halloween escapades this year~ Glow in the dark glass with a wicked WOW factor. If I wasn't feverish (and ignorant about my camera) (and too feverish to read up about my camera) I'd show ya the Dark Side. For now I'll just show you the raw side, and then I'm going back to bed.
PS. Thank you for the lists in comments yesterday. Y'all're stellar.