Stuck.

The cleaning ladies are here which means even though i'm as sick as a sick dog on it's death bed I can't crawl back into bed. As well does it mean my wet hair tossled up in a towel must remain likeso until I can search the house to find my blow dryer without getting in their way.

I guess I could read some on-line news or Candace's political satire while I wait but for whatever reason my usual spunk for Discovery and Enlightment is wading. And i'm dizzy.