No, the title bar won’t let me insert a trademark symbol, sue me. (Just kidding, please don’t sue me.) All credits to Eminem and I’m advising my audience not to search out the rest of those lyrics because I know who reads me and, well, it’s a lot. If you’re of the young and plucky set then by all means, go at it.


I’m out! I’m free! I survived! As I always do.

Being in the grips of ugh-ness after a vaccine is never fun. And yes, there was a morning when I opened my eyes to such pain and misery I actually cried. My 52-year-old self just sobbing like a baby because everything hurt and my head pounded and I knew there was a whole day ahead of me. To say Phoebe was concerned is an understatement.

She’s my nervous Nellie who frantically stares but would only tolerate five minutes of petting because apparently my energy was trash and I only stressed her out further.

Still, here we are, back in the saddle again. I’d say I’m 100% back except it’s fair warning to say if you punch me in my arm I cannot predict my response because it seems to be the law of the land that shingles vaccine injection sites must hurt for at least a week or a star explodes.

Well, probably not that last part but the arm part for sure.