The road to hell is paved with good intentions

A truer saying was never coined.

I had every intention of writing more today, of attempting to explain this week. Two and a half days in the office. Yet so much happened.

And then this fantastic weekend.

But, as always happens, something unexpected came up.

My face swelled up. I am sure that is grammatically incorrect, but I really don't care. Or rather, the benadryl induced haze I am in doesn't care.

I don't know if something bit me or I am suffering some kind of allergy. With the benadryl in my system I don't really care either.

Hopefully my lip will not be swollen when I wake up tomorrow. And hopefully the benadryl induced sleep will be restful.

More later on more lovely adventures of the week - which include the endeavor of finding benadryl after dark on a Saturday (read: the equivalent of a Sunday evening for those in the West) evening. Not much fun.

And people wonder why I no longer blanch at starting my gas stove with flaming bits of paper or hacking off turkeys heads.

Wow. I just re-read that. I sound like an awful, slighting terrifying person.

Things - me - will seem better in the light of day. Hopefully.