Bleh

     I'd love to blog about something really profound today, but my brain is completely empty. I've had a cold for going on two weeks. Not a friendly cold where your nose is pink and you sneeze daintily into a lacy handkerchief. It's more of a phlegm festival complete with a choir of barking seals and a snortosaurus rex exhibit. This morning my husband put his foot down and insisted that I go to the doctor. I like to think it's because of his tender devotion to my well-being, but I suspect it's because I'm really getting on his slightly obsessive compulsive nerves. Who can blame him?

Pretty-much how I look in my snuggy.

     I'm also overwhelmed at the thought of Christmas decorating, Christmas shopping, Christmas baking, Christmas candy making... (Those boxes of decorations are right in front of me silently accusing, judging me: "Why are you on the computer? Hello-o? The house can't decorate itself!") I'm thinking about hanging a little tinsel on my schefflera and calling it a day. 

     Well, I think I'm done here. Time for hot tea, blanket, remote control and Shih Tzu.