Moving like a herd of Turtles

Saterday afternoon, and my body is moving slower than a herd of turtles. Even with the mandatory coffee, energy isn't seeping through the pores of my skin-

If Mr. nice postman would deliver the mail early, I'd have reason to slack off on weeding a flower bed (that is in dire straights), and start staining the crown molding. Season 1 of Amazing Race is supposed to arrive. Netflicks love people. Netflicks love.

Gary came over last night for dinner. Patting myself on the back for making fabulouse pasta with fresh grated Pamason Resango (horrible spelling) cheese, salad, and fresh out of the oven brownies with coffee ice-cream. It rocked. Owned Gary dinner as it was, conversation was lack-luster, and by the second round of wine, this bitch was ready for bed.

P's tragic death is heating up the rumor mill, and I'm not even at the hospital, its comming in waves. The event is what it is, and I still feel quite numb regarding the situation. She was a good egg, a wonderful nurse, and had a good head on her shoulders. Definately will be missed-it hasn't come real- She always joked and openly spoke on her "boob" job. Girl had some nockers. Knock-Knock.

Well I suppose, another cup of coffee, and attempt to start the day for what it is...