And remember how I told you those pills were big fuckers? Look ...

Three-quarters of an inch long. And three-eighths wide. Naproxen: the big pill for big dykes.

Had a lovely lunch with Deb down in the food court. She had meatloaf and I had baked chicken. We talked and talked about different things. She'd already been to the chiropractor this morning and had her adjustment. She hurt her back several days ago and it's been bothering her since. Much better today though.

My own hand pain seems much improved with drugs and I have high hopes for a pain-free date tomorrow night. I'm hoping for tomorrow night. Sara's all primed and ready to go, so we just need an opportunity. I suggested to Deb that maybe we could have some make-out time tonight, but she wasn't too keen on the idea. Family dinner nights are not supposed to be superseded by raging hormones.

I may still lobby for a tuck-in.

Deb has learned that my frustration is causing rolling blackouts in California, but I don't think she cares. No Touch Days indeed. What a horrible thing. And go tell Miguelito that he's fuckable because, I assure you, he is.

And speaking of mentions, Oblivia included me and mine in a really neat entry on why she reads certain diaries (another in a series of writing assignments from her Master). I'm incredibly flattered by her assessment of my diary, and it makes me feel special in a warm, inflated ego kinda way to think about people on the other side of the country having conversations about my day and what's going on in our lives. You can pick up some good recommendations for other diaries in this entry as well. Some I need to add to my own list of favorites. Including Oblivia.

Back to Bryce now. I'm exterior decorating my version of what the world will look like once Miguelito has assumed control.