Can I get a reboot?

Let's flash back to last night. I was enjoying a highly relaxing evening of online shoe shopping and finding a guri guri recipe, when I was smacked with an epic round of allergies. My eyes got scratchy and puffed, I started to sneeze, my throat decided to itch so much that all I could do was make faces, and the most intelligible thing I could say was, "Urguhh." It *sucked*.

So I broke out what I call the Big Guns - one half a dose of Alka Seltzer Plus Cold Medicine. (I have no tolerance at all for allergy and cold meds, so just a little dab will do me.) Took in a documentary on Netflix and passed out cold into a medicine coma filled with very, very strange dreams. Didgeridoo Boy and I were trying to avoid getting caught talking about something highly secretive on Facebook while I was researching how to efficiently launder a basket full of bras. I couldn't figure out how to wrangle a stash of vintage formals with very pouffy sleeves and skirts into a linen closet. Somehow, our grill shrunk to the size of a softball, and the front walk had been paved in sponges. I think there might have been pale blue smoke.

Then I saw Didgeridoo Boy standing over the bed, grinning. He kissed me on the forehead, giggled, and said, "I just flushed the toilet in my bathroom, and water came bubbling up into the sink."

Good morning, Wednesday, it's nice to meet you.