I'm so tired (drunk drowsy) I can't keep my eyes open, which makes blogging difficult since I can't touch type. Again, I have been enjoying the writing of others and again I have been neglecting my own. So I'm going to at least make an attempt.
Except there is nothing in my head.
I haven't the energy for thought or comedic effort. Ray is insisting on leaving the window open tonight. The temp has dropped and he wants to milk it. The extra blanket got pulled from the closet. Whatever Northern bitches, cold is cold when you are used to warm. The little dog across the pond is yapping and I want to march over there and remove his batteries. Get a real dog neighbour!
Made a wicked pork tenderloin for dinner (stuffed it with spreadable garlic and herb cheese and sprinkled it with sesame seeds). The prep of the meat nearly turned us off eating it though. It is a very phallic cut of meat...the cheese oozing out of it when it was done didn't help either. But GD was it delicious! Provenance cabernet is good friends, enjoy it with the other white meat. How many times have I said meat so far? Meat it out. Meat me in St. Louis. Track meat. Meat and greet.
I may have to go to bed. I have jumpy legs. All these years I thought this was something only my family endured and then two years ago I learn that it is an actual syndrome, RLS. Restless Leg Syndrome. What kind of gay name is that? It's like calling a fracture BWS - Broken Wrist Syndrome or a slipped disc ESCS - Extruded Spine Cushioning Syndrome.
That's it. I'm out. I'm done with this day. I'll meat you here later.