Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

That, my friends, is the sound of decompression.

All week long I've paid the price for foolishly thinking that throwing together a nice scrapbook/album for a major event the day before it was due was somehow a good idea. The book actually turned out quite nicely. Of course, it would have been ever so much more enjoyable had I actually put the time into it an hour or two at a jag, instead of pulling a 14-hour blitz! (Didn't get a picture of it. Maybe M will let me borrow it back later for that, but right now she has much bigger fishies to fry--like getting married next week!) Ever since last Saturday when the Shower of the Century took place, I've been recovering from my self-induced burnout by being really under the weather and, if possible, even less productive than usual (read: slower and lazier.) It's all culminated this weekend in the worst allergy attack I've ever experienced...my poor immune system, what have I done to you?

All right now--this is the last time I castigate myself for it. Movin' on.