Staring at a computer screen again.

Becca's on her way over, there's a stack of pancakes sitting in the glasses cupboard (redundant, that), I need to get to the OHP office to reapply for food stamps, I need to get out to the clinic to sign away my innocence and privacy, and... me? Really? I'm re-reading an entry that makes me feel just a smidge bit better about my life purely because of an upper-case 'H'.

Right now I'm still drowning in the allergic reactions from hell, and Rhi has stolen the syrup.

Back later.