I don't think I can blog today. My brain is having trouble forming coherent thought. I think it's because I broke my hiney during weight training (the standing up/ sitting down part of my derriere, not anything more personal--not that that isn't very personal).
Don't ask me how not forming a coherent thought and a broken bumper go together. I think it's mostly just the rather gruesome anticipation that momentarily I WILL get up from this chair, and that moment, is not going to be fun.
We had Christmas Dinner potluck for twenty-five people here yesterday. It was a disgusting display of gluttony and festivity by our life group, but fortunately we encouraged either by discussing man toilets (this was before I broke my posterior so I do not take responsibility) and great television shows of the eighties (I am coherent enough to recognize that is an oxymoron...no comment about morons, please). We all laughed very, very hard, and I think we all needed it. To be fair, we did discuss the actual topics as well.
Today God showed off big time with a $5 stuffed panda bear and if I could form a coherent thought, that is what my blog would be about, but I can't. So I am not divulging anymore of the story because I plan to be fixed head to rear tomorrow and form coherent thought.
Although my mom is coming, so I'm not making that a rock solid promise.
Also, I love aleve.
I think I gave up on a book in the shortest time ever today. I read the first ten pages of The Elegance of a Hedgehog, and I just said, "No." Look I am a complete and total word nerd and no one loves to throw out erudite and esoteric words more than I. But too many big words in one sentence just makes the whole experience a vocabulary slogfest of pretension. I kind of want a shower now. Or as the character in the book would say, "Perchance it is expected of a concierge to spasmodically lave oneself blah blah blah blah snoooooooooooore"
I can have strong opinions.
And I now suffer from book malaise. BUT BUT BUT The Peach Keeper is waiting for me at the library. I also picked up a little something that may cause me to have trashy book guilt if I love it (I have trashy book guilt anytime I read Charlaine Harris) so that book shall remain nameless for now.
I mentioned that it's going to hurt when I get up, yes? Yes.
Just in case you hear the whimper when I end this...you'll know why.
I have to go find a book that satisfies now.
I'm bookless in the 'ville. Bookless and broken.
First World Problems.