Where do I get these titles? Seriously. I must be stopped.

Either way, what I REALLY need to stop doing — in a much more immediate fashion — is eating this price-brand peanut butter from the jar. ESPECIALLY since I hauled this price-brand peanut butter out of the cubbard with feeding the birds in mind. I am not a bird. I do not need the peanut butter, not after dinner. And if I go for the corresponding birdseed, we’re really in trouble.

(But so far, so good. Just in case that was ambiguous enough to make you worry.)

I. Feel. Like. Garbage. I can’t shake it! The huge lumps on the back of my neck have finally started to settle down, but let me tell you about the fatigue, my friends. I can barely lift my toothbrush, and yet I thought it would be a purely STELLAR idea to not mention this fact to the fine folks at work and be a trooper! by helping lift heavy things. With my weak muscles and my sprained wrist. Fabulous idea, Melissa, really flipping fabulous.

Now on top of the noodle-arms and the flip-flopping wrist, I have a headache that’s so expansive I’m thinking of calling it “cavernous,” just because it makes sense in what I’m fairly sure used to be my brain, but is now that totally painful void behind my eyes. See this gesture, sinuses? It ain’t so nice, is it?

So on that cheerful note, I leave you with a photo of the raspberry muffins I gift-ed to my coworker lovelies today. And I’m totally not sharing the recipe, because it’s MINE ALL MINE. (Or, more accurately, because I threw a lot of things into a bowl and stirred. There was no recipe. Who am I kidding?) I ate just about 12 Weight Watchers Points worth of these today, SO not helping my weight-loss goals, but they were damn worth it. AND they’re made with honey and whole-wheat flour, so there. I win!

(Yes, they’re packaged in plastic berry containers. I like to recycle, what can  I say?)