Sunday, January 23
Turkey's in the brine. (If you mentally sang that to the tune of "Palace of the Brine", add five points to your score. If you heard "Turkey in the Straw", subtract two.) I have to turn it over in a little while, attempt to remove the giblets, and let it sit for another three or so hours, so I reckon it'll be around halftime in the Philly game before it goes in the oven.
I've been cleaning. This morning's caffeine burst finally impelled me to do something about the encroaching entropy around here. It's been bugging me all week, but being sick just kind of sapped my energy to the point where I couldn't do anything about it but despair. It's already better enough that I can stand to be in the living room, so that's nice. I'm going to throw in some laundry and vacuum the third floor and then I'll probably call it a day and watch the football game. Or, more precisely, dick around in the kitchen with the game on and come out to watch replays when anything interesting happens. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to flip the bird.1:34 PM