Knackered.

I am.

SOOOOO

e x h a u s t e d.

And, especially after reading this woman's post, all I can think about/want to do is eat soft goat cheese with crackers and wine, and maybe some chocolate truffles.

But... thinking of standing in the Friday afternoon check-out line at the market is too much to bear.

I feel like a zombie. I keep sending text messages, trying to arrange meeting-up plans for going to a Good Friday service tonight, and I can't spell any words right.

Ey kant spel enny werds rite.

Resorting to cave man utterances now:

Kitchen.

Food. Must. Something.

Church.

Cross. Nails and thorns: Jesus.

Thank you, Lord. Thank you Lord.

And then...?

BED.