the dramatic

I present to you the evidence:

1. I am now having to search my own blog to see if I have titled a post with the title I am currently thinking of using.  I am that redundant.  This is what came up when I searched for “certifiable.” Not surprisingly, it was also written on a Monday.  That also happened to contain a stomach virus.  Poor Elizabeth is the victim today.
2. While driving to pick up the boys today after school, I stopped at a red light and heard “plonk.”  Funny noise for a stop light, I thought.  And then noticed my phone sticking up out of my glass of tea.  Technically, the phone still works.  Meaning that it rings and I can talk on it.  However, the screen is toast, so I cannot tell who is calling me, resulting in a slight panic attack every time the phone rings.  Tonight I actually TALKED to a telemarketing student from Baylor.  Who wants to do that?
3. Also, no text messages.  And I can’t punch in your name to get your phone number. So once I stop answering the phone completely because of the increasing stress on my heart, I will be incommunicado.  Oh sure, Elizabeth has a phone, but do you think I’m touching that virus-covered thing with a 10-foot pole?  No thanks.  I’ll talk to you next week.
4. My response to the day that began with the virus and ended in the Fabulous Phone Dunk?  I decided to make homemade ice cream.  For the first time.  Scraping the seeds from a vanilla bean homemade ice cream.  It was a process, people.  Why?  Certainly not to eat it - since it has to chill OVERNIGHT.  Sometimes I don’t read all the steps in a recipe before I jump right in. I know that surprises you.

I think that should suffice for today.  If you need more reasons to doubt my sanity, check back tomorrow.  The ice cream should be done by then.

this time last year: sing a little song (05. 03. 2008)