brought to you by the letter T

Some days the best part, besides the lovely people you know, is singing to Carole King. I really wished to spend the day at home (home home home in the little upper midwest village) putting on that life-changing King album then laying on the floor and listening.

Because at one point this not at home home home day I felt I had wasted yet another hour and I was hungry and had no prospects for getting any dinner for the next few hours so I stopped by GoodEarth and got my favorite Peanut Butter Pretzels.

I can't do this.

There never was a dinner because my stomach embroiled with the pretzels. I need to relearn my stomach. I write this here, again only talking about myself and not saying anything that will better the world around me, because maybe this blog will serve as my conscience.

So I take this cup of tea and make a toast: Here's to you my estómago.