Go to bed, feel fine.
Wake up before the alarm because of pain in my neck/shoulder. The sort of thing we Southerners refer to as “a crick in my neck.” Apparently I can’t even sleep without hurting myself.
I want my twenty-year-old clone body now. Or at least a live-in masseuse.
Alpha Geek, refilling his CPAP: You know, if you ever wanted to kill me in my sleep, all you’d have to do is put some cyanide in this thing.
Me: Why would I kill you in your sleep? Then I wouldn’t get to see the look on your face.
He: ಠ_ಠ
Usually I buy a pre-cooked turkey from the grocery store deli. Unfortunately, nobody around here just sells a pre-cooked turkey—they all sell them as part of a dinner. Now that I can’t eat wheat any more, nobody would eat the stuffing. Alpha Geek doesn’t like the sweet potato casserole they offer (he likes the candied sweet potatoes I make), and nobody ever touches the green been casserole. So there’s no point buying a turkey dinner, as most of it wouldn’t get eaten.
So I tried cooking a bird from scratch. Turned out moderately well. But it reminded me how much I really do hate to cook. If we can’t find a pre-cooked one next year, we may just be having some deli ham.
Yesterday I stayed in the house. I try to avoid anyplace retail between Thanksgiving and New Year’s, although at some point I’ll have to brave the mall to get my traditional Hickory Farms sausage.