Broken keychains

I have been though 6 keychains this month. It's only the 6th!

I don't know what kind of evil my handbag is working on my keys in order to break the keychain fob off, but it just keep happening! I have a little pile of broken keychain bits on my dresser.

I'm at work and I'm thinking only about being in bed. My pain has flared during the night and the new round of pills I swallowed at breakfast haven't kicked in yet.

I'm aggrivated at our TCBY. It never has the Silk option for frozen yogurt, and I got a coupon for free yogurt for my birthday and so I'm pouting. Apparently my pout is lasting all week! At least Starbucks never lets me down. I got a Mocha frappuchino with soy and no whip this morning, and Mmmm, Mmmm, Mmmm! It's awesome. I plan on going to Jason's Deli and getting a sandwich today for lunch. I have a coupon for $5 off any item, and I'm thinking it sounds pretty tasty.

I love birthdays. I have to work on mine though. Saturday suckage. I'd rather just be in soft jimjams and messy hair, pain managed, curled up on the sofa chair with my kitties and Charlie at my feet eating a bone. At least I get to hang with my Mommy after work. We're going to go shoe shopping if the energy lasts! Yay!

I got a "new" organizing book from the thrift store. It's from the 1980's, but I'm hopeful it will have ideas that haven't been "pinned" to death across Pinterest. I'm a sucker for organization, self improvement and time management books/magazines/ideas.

My friend Ann went through surgery yesterday and I haven't heard how it went. I'm worried about her because although her personality is bubbly and her soul is tough as nails to make it through any challenge, she strikes me as a very physically fragile person. Like a bird - beautiful, but delicate. I'm really worried about her.

I feel like my keychain pile. I got stuck in an OCD/Anxiety/Insomnia loop night before last and only got 3 hours of sleep. I told husband if he put anything on our large kitchen counter I would muster the energy to beat him with whatever I can get my hands on. I was looped into sanitizing the counter, and after being in gloves with bleach water for 2 hours the last thing I want is to think about even a speck of dust landing on it. I'm so super sore from it that I think it's amping up the unreasonableness of my need to keep everything from touching it. On the good side of it, I did put the small bookshelf that's only waist high by our front door and now husband has a big basket to put all his little accessories and such that seem to swirl about him like pigpen's dirt (from "Peanuts" comic strip). I won't have to move them, and he won't have to constantly ask where his stuff is. It's just going to be "Check your basket, babe. I bet it's there."

Looks like my coffee break's over. Time to stand on my head. Be gentle, my Spoonies. Make today worth living for yourself and others!