I was just fine until the preacher finished his sermon and I stood up. I’ll blame him. It couldn’t possibly be anything else. Allergies? Fluid buildup in my middle ears? Phphphpt. It was an overlong sermon he admitted he didn’t want to preach (but went overlong anyway) to blame. He finished, I stood up and promptly fell over into Terry’s arms. It was not a case of being overcome with passion…we were in church, after all, and I have a healthy sense of decorum. It was vertigo, pure and simple. I’ll take an anihistamine and a decongestant at bedtime, and we’ll see how it goes tomorrow.
Right now, tho, the room is slowly rotating, and my stomach feels about 2 steps behind it, and my eyes half a step behind my stomach. It feels like I’m being lightly smeared. Freaky.
Terry, as a reward for doing the taxes ($400 back! W00T!), replacing the broken sink in the powder room (someone who shall remain unnamed, but her initials are MOM, did something unnamed), and making appropriate noises about getting the trash to the dump, is getting to watch the Sunday round of The Masters. Watching golf is, to me, as exciting as watching paint dry. No crashes, no (well, not much) cussing, no one bumping anyone else out of the way or slamming small objects into each other’s mouths…no bleeding no bruising, none of those things that is really the only reason I watch sports. Golf is so…Polite. I don’t like polite sports. Granted, Augusta National is a pretty course, but ehhh, I prefer Talladega or Bristol. Crashes, flames occasionally, stuff like that.
Anyway, it’s probably all I’m up for today, what with the room slowly rotating around a variable axis. wooOOooOOooOoOoOo.