sickday

Will soon fall face-forward into my sandwich and/or the Slate article I am trying to read - my bachi for taking a sick day is, of course, getting sick. Have done four loads of laundry, went for a run (not so smart), picked up the new and de-improved engagement photo (thank you, Uncle B), and stopped off at Safeway for my favorite lunch in the world - Tuscan Chicken sandwich. Also bought two boxes of cereal so we can finish that git-danged gallon of milk that we bought from Sam's Club the other day.

Paid bills this morning, too. I find something about bookkeeping so soothing (however, if I had to do it for a living, I'd get fed up and fired within the first week). Something about writing and signing checks, sealing the envelopes, putting it all in the mail, and checking it off my TDL is so comforting. Of course, I blew a minor gasket when I saw the four-digit Visa statement (complete with service charges that aren't supposed to be there, per our former understanding of the cardholder agreement) but there's nothing I can do about it (except, you know, pay it) ... weddings (and life) are expensive.

The dog keeps coming out of the bedroom with foil-wrapped chocolate hearts. The living room was littered with empty foil wrappings this morning - I think he ate about four. I've kept a pretty close eye on him all day, but everything seems to be going in and coming out all right, so keep your fingers crossed for my (stupid) dog. By the way, yes I've followed him into the room to see where the hell he's getting the candy from, and damned if I know. Magical, stupid dog.

Magical Stupid and I are going to go take a nap now. Must set alarm so I can wake up in time to run errands and cook dinner for the BF, who I hope will bring home lots of math problems for homework again.