after cleaning out and completely overhauling my room, thus kicking up a flurry of 10-year-old dustmites, i feel like i've got the cough and posture of a 75-year-old alcoholic swamp lady with a 6 pack a day habit. i've rocked copious amounts of hot tea and chicken noodle soup and yet my sternum still aches like the dickens.
to counterbalance my impending chest cold, i've refrained from putting myself in potentially smoky situations and have instead opted to have a string of blockbuster nights:
last night i watched
and
after lunch today, i had a delicious oatmeal raisin cookie from whole foods that put me in such high spirits that, as i walked alone down a l o n g hallway at work, i felt compelled to cartwheel... so i did.
i also really love my fancy chiquita (as in banana) necklace that i got at that wonderful charlottesville shop, cha cha's. i'm wearing it with my markedly un-fancy, gray straight-leg dollhouse pants that had an unplanned, yet strangely beneficial, run-in with a puddle of bleach and other unnamed toxins found on the streets surrounding black cat and my inappropriately low-cut black sweater from the british (read: infinitely more stylish) wal-mart... primark.
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