I've been under the weather for days now, courtesy of a mystery disease that I dare not look up on WebMD. The major symptoms include stomach pain and a lingering queasiness. This has made me quite sensitive to smells and tastes, to the point where all I want to eat is applesauce, plain bagels with peanut butter, and biscotti. This isn't actually far from my regular diet, but it's severely lacking in pizza and chocolate.
(Thankfully, I live in a fairly odor-neutral world, so I'm spared a few tumbly tummies there. Although, this morning, the staff break room smelt of stale cheese fries and church coffee. Grosser than gross.)
Anyway, the point of that slightly incoherent ramble was to highlight how great it was that I was able to: finish editing a 26-page transcription of a 4-hour ordination ceremony, stay awake long enough to not get fired from my job, ship a super belated care package to a friend, sort out some sort of crazy mix-up with my UPS mailbox, enjoy the fabulous tradition of Friday Night Date Night with my mom, and resist dashing home at 11 a.m. to play with my new camera forever and ever and ever.
So high-five, self. This totally makes up for the horribly clichÃ© "self-portrait in the mirror" move you just pulled and almost makes up for the fact that you just drooled all over yourself while reading the user manual.