I got up an at unearthly hour and had my annual mammogram this morning.
The Marquis de Sade would have loved the mammogram machine. Quite frankly, if men had to have their dangly bits mashed between two plates on a yearly basis, there would be a much less uncomfortable option.
Then, just as painful in another way, I came home, balanced the checkbook, and paid bills.
I think I've been a grown-up for quite long enough today.
So, I'm going to stitch.
Here's where I am currently on the Stitcher's Workbox project. I think the purple flowers might be clover.
I think Carmen will get some love this afternoon, then more twining leaves and blooms tonight. Or I may do something else entirely.
Whatever it is, it will not involve mature, responsible behavior.
