Or Ohio. Whichever.
I wish I could say that I was away from my blog for a week because I was on a Caribbean island surrounded by a male stripper convention, raking in millions of dollars a day because I'd found a way to lose ten pounds an hour while eating chocolate. But, really, it's just more of the same shit around here with the medication. I've lost my ability to concentrate, which means no knitting to report, which means not a whole hell of a lot to blog about. Especially since I was in Ohio without my spinning wheel, which means no spinning to report, either. Tomorrow I call the doc to see about a nerve block. Won't that be fun.
Anyway, in the mean time, as chaos reigns, I will try to keep doing my usual out-of-left-field topics. And I'll try blogging the move, if I can; the shrieking and profanity should be entertaining as all hell. Especially if I'm drugged up, into the bargain.
The last week... well, I already said no spinning or knitting to report.
We drove to Ohio in this getup:
It took nearly fourteen hours on the road. At one point we were getting seven miles to the gallon (three kilometers per liter, ish?). Yes. A lovely time was had by all. The Goober thinks this about days spent in the car:
I've gotta say, I agree.
Once in Ohio, the Goober spent the week hanging with her grandparents.
The husbeast spent it changing vehicles to Ohio registration and other errands. I think I spent it staring at the walls. I'm not quite sure. I know I helped make a lemon meringue pie in there somewhere.
And then back home again, where I guess I've been asleep the last couple days. Or something. I'm pretty sure the Goober's getting away with stuff, 'cause she looks like this a lot:
Oh yeah, baby, getting ready for a move is gonna be a good time.