I'm creeping along. I dreamed last night that I was in the church where I grew up, and there was a wedding there, and they stuck me in the procession as a bridemaid at the last minute. Then I had to rescue a few heads of broccoli from a pew (???). Then I dreamed I had to clean the walls of the meeting hall with borax, and I kept telling the priest, "Didn't you know the walls could be cleaned so easily?"

The two little ones dropped today: Beauty Girl in the morning and Wild Girl this after noon. Wild Girl just collapsed on the downstairs futon where Glamor Girl usually sleeps-- something she's done twice in her non-infant life (fall asleep during the day). Beauty Girl is lying prone on the sofa, staring at me with confused, glassy eyes.

I was so desperate to get Mr. Crazy to eat that I ordered takeout, feeling very sorry for the delivery man whom I likely infected with virus-covered money. Mr. Crazy took one bite of the food: This tastes weird. And he retreated to the sofa and passed out.

I haven't taken anything for the pain & I have no fever but I feel drugged, woozy, and dizzy. Next time the Prophet of Doom gets sick, I'm going to tell him to stay at work.