Okay, so I haven't had frogs, rivers of blood, hail, boils, or locusts to contend with, but I'm still feeling that I've suffered my share of pestilence, disease, and plain bad Juju. There was that stomach bug that kept me out of the Thanksgiving cooking rotation, the head lice that led to 18 Mt. Everest's worth of wash in hot water (and the accompanying drying, folding, and putting away) without so much as a sherpa to help, a nasty head cold, and scuffles with my first-born child over his cavalier attitude toward coloring. And that was just in one week.
I probably haven't said this since the period in early adulthood when I would write notations on my calendar like "Wed., 10 P.M. - Brewskies with W at The Pub! YAY!" but here goes:
T.G.I.F.
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