And Boy, Are My Arms Tired

I know. I know. I know. That's the punchline for " I just flew in from *fill in the blank* . . .," but you get the point.

It's done.

It's wrapped and gone.

That disoriented woman in front of you at the post office? The one who clearly pulled her turtle neck on after she brushed her hair? That would be me.

Clare can tie the bow. Details tomorrow. I'm going to read a book.