Coffee tongue

I woke up at 3:00 a.m. in the morning with the sweats and hot flashes. If it had been a cold sweat, I would have known it was the ancestors telling me the world was out of balance. Because the icky feeling had heat, I knew it was either my health or my environment. I stumbled out of bed (weird thing: my dog was crotchety, too, and couldn't settle down) and made it to the kitchen. Clutching the counter, I proceeded to make two slapdash hummus and tabbouleh sammiches. The tabbouleh was a bit heavy on the red onion and I had to have some sweet to counter it. With a big glass of water and a jar of cinnamon-raisin swirl peanut butter (yum!), I flopped down on the couch to watch late night TV with my pooch. She got some peanut butter, too. Must of done the trick. As soon as she licked her dollop off my finger, she was stretched out and dreaming on a burgundy fleece cloud. I was feeling much better, too, but needed some Serenity action to help me drift back to sleep around 5:00 a.m.


Next meal time was sometime during the morning while manning the marble counter. Swallowed a banana and hot water. Started feeling weird again. Grabbed pizza and black coffee for lunch, which has left me with a coffee tongue. I lived with it for about 40 minutes. Someone started using the Turtle, and I was afraid I'd be breathing beany breath over their shoulder. So, a stick of spearmint just sacrificed itself for my minty well-being.

I HEART LARRY.