fuzz balls

After opening the notepad on this first day of summer, I fear I'm at a loss for a blog entry. I'm having one of those days when it feels like my head's been Fed-Exed to Hackensack, New Jersey, but my body is still here in North Carolina.

50 Percent of this can be attributed to a sugar high, 30 percent to the after effects of an allergy pill, 10 percent -- oh, forget it. I hate doing math.

I've started four different entries today. This is the fifth. I can't seem to make up my mind what to write about. Yep, I've got Blog Block. Perfect. I knew I should have had a V8 instead.

Meanwhile --

I'm sitting here at my desk and I realize that my left hand, my "mouse maneuvering" hand is cold, but my right hand is warm. It's the sad result of too much mousing, not enough typing.

Welcome to my Wednesday.

I was running so late this morning and couldn't find the freaking pair of shorts I wanted to wear, so I pulled on an old dress.

A dress no longer in fashion. It has pockets. The voluminous skirt, wide enough for three of me, hits me mid-calf. It's a big no-no for a short person according to Stacy and Clinton of the What Not To Wear show. Long skirts tend to make a short person look even shorter. So now I guess people think I'm only 4-1/2 feet tall instead of 5'2" and a quarter. Look out, here cometh the poorly dressed crotch sniffer.

Did I just type that out loud?

People are always saying that they can't take me anywhere. Well, here's flagrant proof. There must have been something in my coffee this morning because this isn't polite little me typing this. Gosh darn it! I must've been body-snatched by a wookie again.

Poof!