I am tired, folks.
Eyes-glazing-over, brain-fuzzed, desperately-need-a-12-hour-nap tired. I'm chugging Coke and snarfing Nutter Butters (I know ... awful but terribly delicious) in a desperate attempt to elevate my blood sugar.
It's been a major week. Between the wrenching dynamics of the Terri Schiavo case and more mundane but also important issues such as my impending change of residence, I am "'bout ready to tump over," as we say in the South. And I'm recovering from the crud.l I'm supposed to have dinner tonight with a friend at our favorite Indian restaurant, and I hope I don't flop face down in the sev betata puri.