What a strange, demented feeling it gives me when I realize I have spent whole days before the inkstone, with nothing better to do, jotting down at random whatever nonsensical thoughts have entered my head.
Tuesday, September 17, 2002
Overheard at my house last night:
Me: Ow...I have a cut on my tongue.
DH: Man! How does that happen? Is it when you lick knives?
Me: Gee, you think?