I have to go to work again tomorrow.

I spoil myself to those delicious liquid coffee creamers International Delight makes nowadays. At any given point in time, you can find amaretto, vanilla caramel, white chocolate raspberry (my favorite) or hazelnut lining my refrigerator door.
Except for this given point in time.
No creamer to be found anywhere in the fridge.
What's a girl to do?
I can't go to the store. The store is outside where we keep the wind, and the West Texas wind is a fierce bitch today. Just thinking about the dust swirling around is causing my eyes to itch, my nose to twitch and my sinuses to swell.
There's a noticeable shortage of teenagers to boss around these days, so nobody is here to take my money, or car keys, or orders. I curse myself for not remembering to grocery shop before I left work today. You'd think I'd remember what with all the groceries we sell there.
Milk? gone with the mini-wheats.
Evaporated milk? used it to make Christmas fudge.
Cool Whip? Have I ever had Cool Whip for more than an hour?
After desperately rummaging around in the cabinets for a few minutes, I emerge triumphant with a small container of powdered coffee creamer I must have bought in some other life. I don't know why I kept it, but I'm happy I did, because I was seriously thinking about risking certain death-by-allergy and running to the grocery store. It's not a special flavor, like mocha fudge praline swirl. It's just plain ol' non-dairy coffee creamer, but I sort of feel like I've won the lottery.

DIRECTIONS:
Spoon 1 teaspoon into cup of prepared coffee, tea or cocoa. Add more for larger cup or mug, to taste. No need to add sugar.

No need to add sugar?

LIARS!

So...who has a cup of sugar I can borrow?

It's Not Murder If They Really Deserve It

My first rule of migraine pain is "Do not kill anybody until your migraine is completely gone and you've had a chance to re-evaluate your original desire to kill."

The reason that I've had to establish this as the first and most important rule to remember is that while I am in the throes of agony, I often make a list of all the people and animals who seem to be making it their life purpose to cause my head to explode. These people, obviously, must die. It is the surest and quickest way to stop them from doing the horrible things they are doing.

In reality, however, they are not actually trying to make me miserable. Many of them are probably not aware that I exist at all. They have no idea that I've shut myself away in the dark cave of my room with blackout curtains on the windows. They don't realize that I had to use the princess sleep mask just for good measure because the red glow of the alarm clock is slicing through my eyelids with its stabbing blades of digital light. They don't know that I've unplugged every electrical appliance in the house because the constant hum of electricity is pulsing through my skull like angry wasps.

The Fed Ex truck that drives down the street just a little too fast, roaring like a lion and then slamming on its squealing brakes when it reaches the house across the street? It's not driving into my living room, crashing through my bedroom wall and parking on my pillow.

The dog next door, fifteen or twenty feet away from my bedroom window, is not clamping its massive jaws into the tasty gray matter of my brain. It's only slowly crunching its dog food.

The eight-year-old girl who sings to herself as she walks past my house on the sidewalk is not practicing my death chant. She's just singing. And skipping. And breathing in and out.

I have to remind myself that it's okay for these people and animals to do these mundane, everyday activities. I forgive them their intrusion into my agony. They are simply living their lives. It is unfair of me to expect the world to stop spinning and for everybody to start tiptoe-ing around me just because I have a headache.

But that guy in the low-rider who cruises through here at three miles an hour blasting his car stereo with the bass turned so high that my windows vibrate? He dies tonight.

Just as soon as this Excedrin kicks in.

Holy Crap! Is that the TIME?

I'm surprised to learn that it's already Friday afternoon. I have been elbow deep in mosaic world for a couple of days, so the passage of time has gone unnoticed. I forgot to pick Matt up from school.

The same thing happens when I'm writing a really great story.

It's not finished yet, but it's in the final stages It's an end table. I'm feeling very proud of it. It's my very first mosaic, and I think I've done a pretty good job.