Alimentary, my dear
Yesterday was a day of rest, spent recovering from a middle-of-the-night, violent reaction to either food poisoning or a stomach virus. I can’t even remember the last time I brought it up for a vote, but this time I went to Europe with Ralph and Earl in a Buick, poor little Naomi Chaney in tow.
I’m getting back on my feet, thanks. (Forget about Tussin — flushable baby wipes are, ironically, the ultimate answer to the extreme moments of single, childless living.) Keeping up with NaBloPoMo is all well and good, but at the moment I’m focused on achieving a state of NoBloNoMo.
Applesauce, anyone?
