The headache went away.

The period turned up.

Evil surfer boy made me do manual labor

Don't even try to tell me my job isn't glamourous (and see Crate, I told you I was fat fat, not skinny girl complaining about a couple of pounts fat).

I wish surfer boy had taken an after picture when I stood up. Covered in black mud.

and oh, do you see the smear of blood on my leg? That was the first of many. Green Head season sucks. We were both batting at ourselves and yelling "Ouch" ever 10 seconds.

Digging in that mud? Yeah, looks easy. Not. Not at all. You need the clamming rakes and it's tough to move.

the best part is the smell. Pure sulfer. Think eggs gone rotton.

Yeah, two showers and I could still smell it on my hands. It took three washings and I can still smell some of the bug spray in my hair.

GLAMOUR!

So after all of that diggging and the timely appearance of aunt Flo, my headache came back and ALSO as an ADDED BONUS GIFT every single thing in my body aches.

I don't kneel. You see me kneeling in that photo, but I don't actually kneel. Ever. Because when I let me feet lay the way they do when you kneel, because of the hardware in them or the broken bones or the deterioration from the arthritis or whattheheckever, I cannot walk afterward and my ankles swell to cankles.

The bending over killed my back and the digging (I abandoned the little white shovel eventually and ended up just digging with my newly manicured hands) wrecked my arms.

Field work. Bah.

All in all I'd rather spend the day watching

Michael Keaton movies on my work computer.

I watched part of Desperate Measures yesterday. I had high hopes for it because he's all buff and half naked in one scene and cuffed and chained to a chair in another but his character is so creepy it's kinda ruining the fantasy.

Bet E-beth would think it was hot, she's warped that way. I love E-beth.

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