Party in my lungs, not to be confused with the party in my pants.

I know, I KNOW.

"Post every day for a week, blah, blah, blah..."

You all should know by now that any promise of mine involving time constraints and actual effort on my part usually isn't worth the sticky candy wrapper that it's written on. Life is full of little disappointments, people. You should probably also know that there is no Santa Claus, and that babies come from Mommy's no-no bits.

While I had grandiose plans for the weekend that included actually putting on big girl clothes, leaving the house and doing things like "socializing", the plague-like sickness that I thought I was almost over made a dramatic comeback on Friday. Instead of actually enjoying my three-day weekend, I spent a large chunk of it comatose on the couch, coughing like I need an iron lung, drinking buckets of tea, and inspecting my mucus. Turns out, it looks nothing like those sassy animated green globules in the commercials for Mucinex. Mine couldn't talk, let alone throw a party in my lungs. Stupid inferior mucus.

So...yeah, that's what I've been up to. Fun, no?

I promise that tomorrow I won't mention any of my bodily fluids/excretions. But then again, you know what my promises are worth...