Busy and tired

I can't say that I'm sick and tired, because I'm not.

Although my episode with fire ants and Benadryl was repeated briefly Saturday night. Before long, you'll start thinking I'm doing this on purpose, but I'm really not. This time I was laying on the shoreline at a lake and felt a bite, but I didn't think much of it. I was outside on the shoreline at a lake afterall. But then I was driving home with my little brother and the hives started and before long, the itching and burning eyes, ears and nose. I carefully monitored my throat, alerted the home front I was rolling in in desperate need of Benadryl ASAP upon arrival, and swallowed two when I walked in the door.

Subsequently, I fell asleep in the recliner for an hour, went to bed at 9 p.m. and didn't get up till 12 hours later.

But aside from that, I'm not sick and tired.

I'm just busy and tired.

Like, supercalifragilisticexbealidocious-busy.

Uh-huh. That busy.

Aside from two elements, I would liken my life to that of a cat. I eat, I sleep, I work, I drink wine, I eat, I sleep, I work, I drink wine.

I'm assuming a cat doesn't work and most likely doesn't drink wine. But in the eating and sleeping department, we are very similar.

You will hear more from me in the upcoming days. Because I am awesome, and so are you.