It occurred to me while driving this morning that while Bill Engvall says he's just about 15degrees off "cool", I could call myself about 15 degrees off "sane". Most of the time this is in the good, fun, and kooky way. I'll admit my sense of humor is warped. My observations and the way I like to stick out those little one-liner quips with the sole purpose of making the listener choke on their beverage- that's all fun and wonderful. Great. Then there are the lower moments.

I've been trying very hard to keep my emotional wackiness in the kooky but fun range and away from the kooky but this woman needs to be locked up range. With fairly good success. There's no way to explain why I've been overly hormonal this week. PMSing again? Dare I hope? Didn't I just do this? All I know is that I'm still getting all choked up at odd moments. I'm still feeling from time to time as though my body is going to bump into something and break into a million tiny pieces. It won't be loud, it won't be messy. I'll probably just sit down and cry whereever it happens, with no idea why I'm crying or how I got there. One good thing about my brand of nuts- it's rarely of a degree to end up on the news. I never turn on the people I love, I just implode fairly quietly. This is the sort of thing the Boy lives in "concern" for. He's not afraid. Never afraid, just like he never worries. He just gets concerned.

Faugh. Enough of this sort of talk. Let's talk about something more exciting and fun. Like pizza. Tonight I'm making my french bread pizza. I am particularly fond of french bread pizza. Look for the recipe over on the recipe/thrift/whathaveyou blog (located just below dooce on my sidebar) But don't look for about five minutes because I need to go find the toddler from whereever she's gotten into. It's been way too quiet for about 3 minutes now.