TCB

For those of you unversed in the Elvis lexicon, this means, "Taking Care of Business, Baby".

Which for me means driving back and forth to Pennsylvania to visit lawyers, doctors, and karaoke bars (oh my!). Plenty of trouble afoot for Trouble, but I got this, don't you worry.

You see, one of my docs has been cooling his heels on refilling an important med, leaving me stuck in a feral mood turnstile. Anyone that crosses me feels the mighty wrath of Wicked-Witch-of-the-West-East-North-and-damn-South Trouble. It's a good thing Superfly wears his Teflon cape or he might get singed (by accident).

Oh, and I have to get root canals (yes, plural) and crowns and filings and maybe braces (again?!)and for good measure, whitening. Ye Gods. Nothing like a periodontal abscess to make a bad mood turn demonic, rest assured.

Tomorrow my life and mental health go on trial. Please send positive thoughts my way, and a virtual clue-by-four to all those who live to vex me. Thank you, thank you very much.

*wink*