Monday, Monday

It was a day of fighting through vicodin fog. Three cups of tea (earl grey, hot) didn’t help. Two mugs of coffee brewed on the extra strong setting didn’t help. A cheeseburger and fries scarfed down in the car on the way to downtown Dallas helped a bit.

Workshop made everything better. Oh, I wasn’t perfect, or anything, but I didn’t feel terrified, and I had fun, and did some stuff I’m proud of, and now even though I’m still hurty and groggy, I’m also jazzed and my brain is zooming.

Also, dulce de leche frappucinos? Totally taste like flan in a cup.
YUM.