We were at a combination birthday and going-away party for a friend of ours last night. When we all started singing "Happy Birthday", the Goober shouted "CAKE!" at the top of her voice. No dummy, my kid. Got her priorities straight. Between us, we ate three pieces. She's right as rain this morning. I'm nauseated from all the fat and sugar.
The friend having the party was the fearless leader of our trivia team. With him leaving, we're going to consolidate with another group of people who played trivia and worked with the hubby, and make one big team. (It was fun when both teams were playing in one place; we'd all boo each other and throw french fries.) So trivia goes on. Last week we won a $20 gift certificate for a pretty good restaurant. More and more 'real' restaurants are running this trivia tournament, as a way to fill the place up on a slow night. These days we've got about twenty places to choose from and can pick the kid-friendly venues. (Though the hub still plays without me and the Goober at the biker bar.)
Otherwise, I think I'm out the other side of the drug switchover. It only took a week longer than I planned; not bad. I switched from two pretty serious drugs - tranquilizers and narcotic painkillers - over to an anti-depressant and an arthritis drug related to anti-inflammatories. (Anti-depressants work on pain control. It's weird, and I didn't quite believe it before I tried it, but it's true.) Anyway, once the new drugs kicked in, I had to quit the old ones, and have basically been doing drug withdrawal for the last month. It's a lot like having the flu, with migraines.
So that's why things have been pretty dead around here; they've been dead in real life, too. I've spent two weeks laying on the couch. The good news is, now that I'm on the new drugs, I should spend a lot less time 'drugged up', and I shouldn't - hopefully - have to tinker with the medication again for a year or two. (Eventually my stomach will quit tolerating the anti-inflammatory. I'm dreading it already.)
It's officially cold here. At the Yarn Harlot's, it's officially winter when the heater goes on. At my house, it's official when the husbeast puts the hard top on the Jeep.