down-to-mars girls
I have a migraine baby sleeping in the bed. The migraine baby wants to yank out his now-swollen ventricles to bronze them. He also wishes for a brain transplant, or at the least, a lobotomy. Unfortunately, all I can offer is good old-fashioned eyeball-gouging with a spoon, since I have neither the tools for a lobotomy or bronzing. And I can also do the TLC thing quite well, thank you very much.
The good part is that it doesn't feel as bad as it usually is, so he says. And at least it's happening today and not on his birthday, or even yesterday, for that matter. It doesn't seem like we're going to be doing anything today, let alone go to the baseball game. That's okay. I'm quite happy relaxing today, especially since I'll probably be out like a light by eight or nine tonight anyway. It's quite sad, I know. Well, if I can't keep my body on Eastern timw, at least my watch will be -- or at least it always has been all this time.