1) It's not Wednesday.

2) I started two different blog posts this week. None of which are contained here.

3) There have been some big changes in my work environment, with the possiblility of more to come. This has been stressful on many fronts, and a couple of backs, including mine. Despite the resulting chaos, anxiety and overall suckwaddishness, my disturbed inner child is kinda giggin' on it.

4) Cabana's two toend sock will be done this weekend. Last night he announced that he is exceptionally pleased with the "Perfect Balance of Hideosity" provided by his chosen contrast yarn. I was going to share a up-to-date photo, but decided to spare you the extra assault on the sensibilities, and save the photo for when the sock is done.

5) I met some people today, who smelled like pickles. Dill.

6) I didn't have lunch today.

7) I found the Pickle People oddly appealing.

8) I took this picture yesterday, and have since forgotten what I wanted to say about it.



9) The Girl Scout Cookies came in last week. It's amazing how many people forgot what they ordered and how easy has been it could've been to eat their Lemonade Cookies, without their knowing.

10) I ate my mom's Lemonade cookies. I felt bad until I realized that, because she lives out of state, her order doesn't count.

11) The Lemonade cookies are that good.

12) I am that selfish.

13) I bought the last, extra box of Lemonade Cookies from our troop leader, to replace my mother's order.

14) I will eat that box this weekend.

15) Yesterday, the DJs on my Morning Drive radio station, were having a Hit the Post competition. Because of pre-programming and digitalization, Hitting the Post has become a dying art. By the time I arrived to work, I was feeling nostalgic for the olden days; for 1340, on your AM dial. Comfort angst for the addle-souled adolescent.

17) It wasn't until later in the day when I realized the true meaning of Hitting the Post: To know exactly when to shut-up.

12) Good-Night.