This Sunday, Hubby offered me the last beer and I turned it down. This alarmed Hubby so much he felt my forehead and told me to go lay down. On the advice of Hubby-- who called just now and told me not to lay in bed all day long like I did yesterday and go make myself something to eat-- I made myself a peanut butter and Nutella sandwich, cursing the lack of marshmallow Fluff. I was excited when I made it but, after two bites, I really don't want it. It's official: I'm sick.
Why am I typing this in a blog about wire wrapping for survival? Because the house is empty except for me and I need somebody to whine to. You, faceless reader, are it.
I know! I'll look at some Art Nouveau jewelry to make me feel better.
I could do this all day if I didn't feel the urgent need to get back to bed and sleep for an hour or 48. Nighty night. Don't forget to check out
my Etsy shop and
Artfire studio.
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