This fog stretches on and on. That’s mostly metaphorical, though NC isn’t opposed to tossing some driving challenges our way. My feet are slow, my brain feels sticky, and stuff is showing up in weird places these days. Thank God the kids are old enough to get ready themselves or they’d end up halfway to school missing three socks, a sweatshirt, or I dunno…pants.

Will a new family love these birds like I do? It’s a little strange, I’ll give you that, but I’ve become quite fond of the buggers and can’t stand the thought of them abandoned. Nope, that won’t do at all, so we’re gonna think that right out of existence. A bird lover shall find our home and make it theirs. Next!

If a dog eats a pack of tissues but nobody hears it, does it still leave trash? Yes. Yes, it does.

I find it ironic that we’re moving half of our house before selling our house. This is supposed to be the moving company’s job, right? Except to hire a moving company we have to sell the house, and to sell the house we have to stage the house, and to stage the house we have to empty the house so there you are. We need more bins. And Advil. And wine.

And it’s just wrong that I haven’t had wine in forever. Wine + the active ingredients in almost any nighttime cough/cold/flu/sinus medicine = a cocktail made in some dark basement party. No thanks, man, I’ll wait it out.