What's one less fingernail, anyway?

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Oh man. Dreary day here today. Everyone is in fuzzy hats and fur trimmed parkas.

Last night while creating another fruit/nut/some lettuce salad, I hacked through a finger and part of a fingernail bed. Thankfully, it was a very sharp knife and S. had some superglue on hand for some stitchless surgery. What did it sound like? Like cracking open a hazelnut. Whatever it sounded like, it was worse than how it felt. Keep those knives sharp.

Constant friend Mix has sent me a December Survival Kit (We agreed to nix Christmas gifts this year as I am anticipating being too po' to pay attention.):
  • Yoga Bible
  • box o' chocolate
  • L'Occitane Foot massage cream
  • Starbucks card

I ask you: am I a lucky girl or what? Mix & I survived many a retail december hell together and nothing unites like a retail battlefield.

The cold remains, although today I feel much better due to a great night's sleep.
Yesterday, while unwisely traisping about, I pulled over to the side of the road and hunched over the gutter on the passenger's side to wait for the dizziness and nausea to pass. Not two minutes later, up screetches a car full of kids and a young latino lady bounds out of her car and bends over me, patting my back: "Ju hokay? Ju pregnant? Itz hokay..." I wanted to embrace her. "Hey! ju Kidz! Ju jes siddown!!! Itz hokay, hon-ney." pat. pat. When I am well, I am creating a new Guadalupe style Madonna with a blue chevy, four kids, warm palms and a soothing voice. What an angel.

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