I am currently a blank slate getting an internal ass-kicking from a fetus.

My esophagus runneth over with gastric juices and my girth is making Jupiter feel a little jealous– and peckish.

And Bones is on tv– back to back episodes.

My feet are up and I look vaguely matronly in my fuzzy house slippers.
I'm delighting in my relative unattractive comfort.

Sometimes you just have to cut your losses and realize that if nothing else, having your feet up and being warm is possibly the greatest achievement of your day.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to see about getting me some Tums by telekinesis.