I don't know what happened in Onondaga, perhaps it was one of the three-pasta meals, or maybe the too-prevalent pizza, or eggs and bacon at every breakfast~ who knows what. My pants don't fit, I don't fold where I should, and I feel all pouffy. Sort of like the Pillsbury Dough Person.
Angst is getting to me, I must tighten up the suspenders, put on a carpal tunnel brace and get my self under control again.
And the dog is getting pouffy too, not just because she needs a haircut- and they ay if your dog is too heavy then you aren't getting enough exercise! Point taken. Tomorrow I get out there and move. I'm not quite where Ruby is, but can see how easy it would be to just curl up and lick the butter in a corner somewhere.
Anyone up for giving me the ole pep talk? I need it.
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