If I could draw like Franklin, I'd probably depict myself as a tangled mass of yarn being used as Dolores's medicine ball.
But because I write rather than draw, here's my representation of myself the past two weeks:
Yes, I'm fine. Work is incredibly busy and I'm basically in the same boat Joe has been in. Too much to do there and not nearly enough time to do much of anything else.
This too shall pass. The job is great but it requires massive focus and concentration, which is why I haven't done any writing of worth, other than at work. And I'm sure nobody wants to read that. I sure don't.
This weekend, I have nothing planned but to write the blog and torture the cats with the spinning wheel. I've got a ton of stuff to put up, too.
So patience, rather than discretion, is the better part of valor, Tontant Weaders.
Oh yeah, and I'm watching Liz because Corinne and Mike are down in Grand Cayman this week, so it's pick up and deliver and vicey versey, when I'm going to and from work. Yikes. Gram La Chauffeuse. Zut alors.