June 13, 2003
Crabby Crabs
Had a nice meal of homemade crab cakes tonight. Roommate told me it was a secret recipe, and then taunted me with the question: "Want to know what it is?" I leaned into his face a little and said, "Honeeeeeeeey." He didn't get the joke. And it wasn't honey. He wouldn't tell me after that. Probably just as well. Sometimes, if the ingredient needs to be kept secret, it's better that way.
I don't have to do jack shit this weekend. Except my laundry. Got the fourth season of Buffy on DVD, so don't expect much from me. Sex and the City, too, fourth season. If I watched them all in a row (which would kill enough brain cells to render me rather vegetative), it would last over thirty hours. Hmmm. No, not this time.
That whopper of a blister that I mentioned the other day exploded last night. The top (or is it bottom?) layer of skin on the pad of my little toe was completely separated from the toe itself and had to be cut away. It was a gross process, but all too necessary. I dabbed some hydrogen peroxide on the exposed layer and watched it bubble a little. For some reason, that sensation of burning that is caused by alcohol or peroxide in an open wound or sore is not at all painful. It's almost a little exhilarating. Anyway, so thank god for Neosporin. Such a good thing. I bandaged it up and promised myself that it will not prevent me from getting rid of the poundage. I am sick and tired of not being able to bend over. Ohmygod, so much over-sharing.
[It's not really that bad.]
Night!
