Ok, no more pins and needles. And, might I add, they were entirely unnecessary. Go, Grace. You put yourself through un-called for discomfort.
Ok, it wasn’t all that uncomfortable. I was just . . . excited. I had entered a Large Contest, and it looked for a little while as if I was going to win, but . . . alas. I did not.
So, on to other more worthwhile things.
Have you ever had a friend who’s head of hair was blatantly drawn toward sludge? And, as soon as she finally got her head of hair in that sludge and let it sit for awhile and then took it off her hair was a gleaming . . . teal? I have a friend like that. *pictures to come* (although, sadly, the Gleaming Teal color has faded, I hear . . . so, no pictures of that. But Friend’s Head Doused in Sludge? Oh yes . . . we have pictures of that.)
This morning I walked into my bedroom when I got up (I slept on the couch), and there in the driveway directly outside my window were several port-a-potties. I blinked in rapid succession several times. Then the port-a-potties started moving. Was this a bad dream? As the port-a-potties moved down the driveway, a truck cab showed up right in front of my bedroom window. There was a man in the truck cab. I peered out at the man. He peered right back in my bedroom window at me. The nerve of people these days!
Anyway . . . turns out he was dropping off a dumpster because Ellerslie (www.ellerslie.com) is about to go into full swing mode. And we need dumpsters. Lotsnlots of dumpsters, apparently.
(Oh, and what do you know–I stop writing to go check my email and I look out the window and a truck full of dumpsters is pulling up. How many of those things do we need?? I said lotsnlots and I meant lotsnlots.)
I’m still being successful at being on no-talking terms with sugar! We still run in the same circles and see each other now and then, but . . . we aren’t polite to each other. At all. I say horribly rude things to him. And make faces at him across the room–whether he’s looking or not. And then ignore him entirely. Next week, though, I might have to have one day where we’re friends again . . . because I have A Procedure I have to do next Wednesday. And it requires clear liquids. And 7-Up. And jello. For two days. So . . . since I refuse to ingest stuff that is bad for me, like . . . fake sugar–I choose to ingest stuff that is bad for me, like . . . real sugar! Because I can. But then we’ll probably go back to no talking.