Cabin Fever Day Number 98? 99?

Still stuck in the house under mounds and mounds of frozen yogurt  or whatever that white stuff is outside, I can’t even remember the last time I was out. Lolled in the bed for three hours reading old New Yorkers but when I got up I got way up: wrote a week’s worth of diary entries, paid bills, got done refinishing this little  high chair,  repaired some nice dangly earrings with Superglue. (God I love superglue! And this time I only got my fingers stuck together for a very short time before I found the solvent...)Also trained my new speech recognition software so that it will stop writing 'dock' when I say dark,' and 'pock' as when I say 'park'. I mean why would anyone even be writing about pockmarks even though I have a few doozies myself from contracting  chicken-pox at the ripe old age of 25 from my sister Nan who got them at 27 by sharing a ski chalet with a field trip of middle schoolers. (My how we itched, childhood diseases being much more serious when you’re big! )I also went on the treadmill and didn’t almost break my neck this time the way I did the other day . And I watched half an episode of Glee and the last ten minutes of Cast Away, made a creamy tomato sauce with real tomatoes, drank two ounces of red wine (Weight Watchers R Me) and built a big fat fire in the fireplace, only burning the front of my sneaker a little.Also today it finally stopped snowing and instead rained, laying a coat of clear nail polish on top of all that frozen yogurt. So if we’re lucky we will have maybe all gone back out and rejoined the world today.Less moronic content from me let’s hope. But why not end with some nice moronic fun just this once and enjoy this delightful video showing what happens when things really go amiss with a treadmill routine:[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RCj2oTsY3_M](I chose this slowed-down version made by a German-speaking person (a) because you can’t hear all the swearing as clearly as in the American one and (b) because the soundtrack is Mozart’s Lacrimosa (meaning tearful) from the Requiem in D…… Witty German-speaking person ha ha !)