Just another day.
I'm sick. Still. I hurt, hurt, hurt.
Weak and fevery with coughing and sneezing and thick yellow snot pouring out of my head. My ears are clogged up and it sort of feels like there is a tide in my head, coming in, I can't hear, going out, I can hear a little bit better. Ears are earachey. Nose is raw from tissue and hankys and whatever else was handy when the fluids decided to flow. Thankfully my throat meats are not tender. My voice is pretty shot, though.


My brain is goo.


I have been reading and reading. I am still working on the Shelley Jackson novel and was researching Bonnie Cashin, a woman I had never heard of a couple of weeks ago. Fascinating life. I guess it's the drawings, but she sort of reminds me of you, Wenchie! Not the way she looks or anything, just the drawings.
She was the first designer for Coach bags starting in 1962. Oh, just go look at all her sketches, they're fabulous.

Still reading and reading on authenticating jeans and purses.
I've been haunting forums and websites reading posts and looking at photos, counting stitches in labels, for the love of peet.

Again, my brain is goo.


It's official, THIS is the perfect bra. I now own four of them all purchased on eeeebbbaaayayyaayayayayaaay at a fraction of the price.
Oh, so comfy. The microfiber is so soft it feels like skin. The thing fits so well, that it stays put. All my other bras would ride up in the back but these stay right where I leave them. Very handy when I go looking for them later. hehe. bad joke, don't ask.

I'm obviously feverish and starting to gibber.
Naptime, anyone?