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January: Silliest Xmas gift: Cookie Monster striped toe-socks, from veejane.
February: From my nephew, whose sixth birthday is today. Spelling and capitalization faithfully reproduced.
March: I'm glad my mother hasn't been around to hear me call Casper "Boogernose" for the last 3 days.
April: I am having trouble updating.
May: Yesterday Casper awoke with her eyes gooped shut, so it was off to the doctor (the mean pediatrician I had an argument with over the phone when I wanted to leave the hospital after 24 hours was on weekend duty - she's got to be over 40 and was dressed in an outfit that would be too young on a 25 year old. Meow.).
June: Poison ivy in the crease of my eye.
July: Georgette Heyer, Cotillion. Spoilers follow.
August: Reasons I am having a crappy morning:
September: The period between 1 and 2 am last night sucked more than anything has sucked in quite a while.
October: Loretta Chase, Mr. Impossible
November: Someone asked, what do you, as a mother, worry about?
December: Happy birthday amych! I baked chocolate chip scones so you can come by and have some if you want!

I seem to be constitutionally incapable of working after about 3pm on a Friday. Unfortunately my boss is on the desk from 3-5, so there is no sneaking out early (and anyway, mr. flea is coming to get me so we can go out to dinner. It's self-indulgence central around here lately.) Am now writing Xmas cards at my desk, and, of course, this.
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June 2019

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