Greetings from Mountlake Terrace!

I don't want to continually toot my horn regarding this particular issue, but my Staycation Plan of Inaction is a masterstroke of brilliance that artfully demonstrates how fantastic I could make the world if all of my energy wasn't spent on developing new poo jokes and daydreaming about Dean Kamen.

I am, in fact, so pleased with my staycation, that maybe I will stay here forever. I am less strict now with the rules, and I think that maybe after all my time running around like a crazy person, maybe I just need to spend a little time nested in my bean bag chair with a cookie, watching David Krumholtz solve crime using math. (OMG MATH, you guys.) Don't worry, my staycation stretch will not affect my blogging, which I hope to return to its normal schedule by Monday.

Additional gloating: I recieved 2 (TWO!) nice things yesterday.

1. I did someone a favor and she brought a mocha to my office. You see, I did something nice for her that I didn't have to do and that was not convenient and then she gave me a snack. Clearly she understands the nature of favors. De... wait for it... licious.

2. Our old custodian saw the state of my desk when he popped by last week and this week he mailed me a single pristine sheet of bubble wrap in an unmarked envelope. Perhaps he also heard how a crazy agressive dame got up in my face and I stood up and kicked her out of my office. Things at work are rollercoasteresqe in nature.

End of gloat.

In other news, I got my temporary crown on Sid, the Tooth of DOOM. This one damn tooth is costing me a fortune and the oft offered let's tie a string around it and tie the other to a door knob and slam the door idea would certainly have been more efficient than: filling it badly, adjusting it, filling it again when it chipped, pulling the whole shebang out and refilling it, having a root canal, coming in to adjust the filling due to pain (later to find out that this is probably a microcrack problem), having a temp crown put in, and then a permanent one next week. Apparently owning a grouchy tooth is akin to raising a child. I just hope that Sid wants to go to state school because I'm not paying for another shi-shi East Coast boutique fancy pants education.

I am especially annoyed at Sid's timing as this Friday I make my pilgrimage to Mother's for turkey and whatnot and having a hurty tooth at Thanksgiving is very irritating. The good news, however, is that I get to use my very neat new Enhanced Drivers License to cross the border, which will either be awesome or a complete clusterfuck. I am looking forward to doing some fun Vancouver-y things, and will do that rather than think about the last time Kim and I crossed the border and the wait was so long that we *almost* ran out of snacks.

In my final piece of non-linear non-sequitorial thought: my grandma (who reads this blog, by the way, so I should probably clean up my language- though, I won't) left me a very important voicemail to let me know that any non-Tom Selleck festooned birthday cake will be unsatisfactory for her next birthday.