I hope I don't shock anyone by admitting this, but I am hungover. I am REALLY hungover. It took me three hours to gingerly get myself into the shower this morning. I have every reason to believe that an injudiciously sudden movement on my part will result in my head flying off my shoulders and rolling under a coffee table somewhere.
If you are incredibly good at riddles you will have guessed that I picked up my imaginary best friend at the San Jose airport yesterday and we stayed up rather late drinking not one, not two but three bottles of excellent wine. She is now lecturing at Stanford (I'm so proud) and I am struggling to compose this memorable piece of biography on her mother-in-law's damned ergonomic keyboard while investigating the curative properties of peppermint tea. If I weren't so pale and weak I would venture off in search of lunch but unfortunately I AM pale and weak. I wish someone reading this would bring me a sandwich.
I will be back home tomorrow and am giddy at the thought of seeing the husband and child again. Sometimes, are you sitting down, sometimes the bluebeard of happiness is... is where? Why, right in your very own backyard.