(After Laurel goes home with Mom and Amy, I can camp out in the clinic until they do something -- which will probably be calling mental health, but I am not afraid of being threatened with mental health. I am afraid of needlessly suffering with something treatable because the doctors at the base clinic are too busy to actually render care.)
Cinnamon toast still makes me happy. Luckily it also settled my stomach.
Laurel likes No Use For A Name. In a few years, I can tell her she was punk once. *snerk*
I must get my hands on page 1B of the 16 July Canyon Courier because my issue came with a misprint (page 1B from the Columbine Courier, one of its sister papers) and I was cheated out of the first half of a story about a gay rodeo at the Jeffco fairgrounds. Luckily, the half I did get included a hysterical picture of two men trying to put a pair of underwear on a goat. I'll scan it later this week for everyone's amusement.
If my stomach stays settled after she goes down for the night, I'm going to eat some Ben & Jerry's Oatmeal Cookie Crunch. Since my kiss of death has temporarily exiled both flavors I bought the time before last, Himself suggested I buy two pints of the one flavor they had that I did like last time we bought more.
I hope they let Himself out on time tonight and the rest of the week. They wouldn't let him switch to days this week (which would also give Jake some respite since the poor dear's been on days) so he's doing outprocessing days and then working evenings. I understand Oscar Brand's "Come & Join the AirForce" so much more now. Also, I'm tired.