Do you ever have days in which it seems you're filled with an unnatural sense of foreboding? 

I mean, foreboding of what?  I really don't know, but it's there and weighing heavily and doing weird things to your psyche and, well, yes, to your self-esteem too, because it's so very fragile it wilts like a humidity-loving plant in a room that dares drop its humidity below 50%.

But then the feeling passes –feeling this way, why?– and then it's as if those hours feeling like a second-class citizen and feeling sorry for yourself never happened.  You remember to pick up groceries and that the kid needs active attention from his mother, or you engross yourself in the gorgeously chiseled form of Cristiano Ronaldo–he whose gorgeousness gets me so many hits from random strangers– and you remember things like how you signed up for NaComLeavMo over at the Stirrup Queen's blog, and how you think that your readers and lurkers would find this little internet activity fascinating and fun and a good idea to find new blogs, be polite, and say howdy.  There is even a handy dandy graphic you can add to your sidebar or in a prominent post!  Isn't that thoughtful?

NaComLeavMo: More Conversation Than You Can Shake a Stick at

So, I strongly suggest you stop staring at those chiseled abs
and that manly jaw and stop thinking about soccer-related euphemisms for sexual activity and go sign up for NaComLeavMo.  And maybe stop thinking that the sky's gonna fall, Chicken Little.

And by "you" I guess I mean me.  But I figure you already knew that. 

I did also mean you, though, because I already signed up for NaComLeavMo.  So there.