TALK AMONGST YOURSELVES.

Finally, the first week of my child-care hell has come to an end.
I have to admit, the most enticing part of this weekend is the mere fact that I have no designated hour to awaken in the morning.
Brilliant planning on my part, primarily, followed closely by a generic dispatch of Tylenol PM.
Ha. Drugs. How funny when taken out of context!
Continuing...
I daresay I'm lacking most cognitive function whilst typing, but never shall come the day when a lack of cognition would halt my communication.
Except it would. Especially in circumstances such as this.

Hmm. My words aren't making sense to me, even in my heightened state of babbling. That must indicate something. But what, exactly?
What, indeed.

I will have amassed a reasonable amount of funding come the conclusion of next Friday's festivities, and that, dear self, is enough to allow for the thorough enjoyment of a night of incapacitated exhaustion. I have done my best to remain healthy thus far, but now, it is all up to miraculous chemicals to ease my brain on down the road.
So to speak.
Like I said, "delirious."

Actually, I don't think I ever called myself delirious.
Huh. I'm mentally jumping the proverbial gun.
Effing sweet.

[Editor's Note: Mentally, and for the sake of everyone who couldn't possibly care less, I must also note that New York, S-Man, and Boyfriend Time come in less than a month. I could not possibly be more ecstatic. Unless I get a pony sometime in the next few weeks. I might boycott joy for a pony. But only as long as it has spots. Simply put, "make it so, Number One."]