All the warnings I had about "Up" being sad were right. And then some.

Sometimes I think I solve half the world's problems just pounding the pavement.

Yes, this is behind schedule, but I figure I'm too far invested in this darn thing to abandon ship.

Thursday night I was ready to set the bookcase on fire after an unsuccessful hour spent trying to figure it out. This short-term disenfranchisement was compounded by 90% of my worldly belongings being still in boxes, extreme exhaustion and a diet consisting mostly of frosted mini wheats and coffee. Friday, however, I got out the hammer and started wailing on the thing and apparently that was just what the doctor ordered. I also ate something other than cereal and bought flowers. So, go me.

Change is inevitable. And good. But that never makes it any easier.

Nature and I aren't BFF's. Also, trying to sand about three dozen pale colored bugs off of a white mirror is not for the faint of heart (or the poor of eyesight).

I bruise like it's my job, so the doctor sent me in for some blood tests.* I've never had blood drawn: that was an experience and a half. And if you really want to hear what I was listening to, here's an audio clip. Surreal doesn't even begin to describe it.

*I got a clean bill of health yesterday, so me and this blog aren't going away any time soon. And I promise that's the last time I reference vampires. Ever.

An ode to my once favoritest show in the universe, which has rendered me incapable of hearing "Tiny Dancer" without thinking of the song stylings of Michael Gary Scott.

And while we're talking about, "The Office," I was emailed a snapshot of a certain cast member's high school yearbook entry (which proves the whole six degrees of separation theory). I'm not going to say who or how*, but let's just say it left me feeling infinitely better about my own tragic adolescent photos.

*Well.... Unless you're promising me pints of Ben & Jerry's. Then, maybe, we can chat.