Things I learned this week:

  • Black may be a slimming colour, but it can't be expected to do all the work when the underwear of which it is an aspect is made of thick cotton and is over-sized and bagging around the lower half of your butt, accentuating the dimpled effect at the top of your thighs that has grown in over the last five years. Note to self: it is better to leave the basement unfurnished than to drape it in unflattering stretch cotton.

  • I love fabric softener. I stopped buying it about five years ago, because six months into our marriage, I became certain that the Palinode didn't like it. Do you know who I was confusing him with? Three exes who had sensitive skin. As a result of my confusing the Palinode with three previous lovers, we have been living static- and fur-ridden lives for the last five years.

    But this isn't about how I am a complete doorknob. This is about my newfound love of fabric softener. We have a fuzzy, electric orange bedspread that catches cat hair like nobody's business. I wash the hair out of it every other week, but without fabric softener, half of it stays mired in the orange tufts. Yesterday, I threw a dryer sheet in with the bedspread, and now it is nearly cat hair free. We can breathe while we sleep! Of course, we'll need to make up for the extra roughage in our diet somewhere else, but I'm sure that's nothing some extra carrots or bran flakes won't cure.

  • Apparently, you are not supposed to take ibuprofen when you are on the anti-depressant I am currently trying out, because it may cause easier bleeding. Good to know, because now I can avoid making large, hicky-like bruise marks on my face when I use the towel to rub away bits of dead skin. You'd think I was using steel wool on my forehead. Or that the Palinode had developed a new fetish for forehead-sucking.

  • A full night's sleep really buoys up the sanity, oh yes. I slept through the entire night last night without a single nightmare or waking up in a cold sweat, and today I am not nearly as paranoid as I have been. It's a lot easier to make it through the day emotionally intact when you're not plagued by the belief that everyone is gossiping about you or that you smell something fierce or that your cats are slowly turning on you. Except that Oscar might be. I think he's cluing into the fact that my refusal to let him latch onto my nipples means that I am not his mother and he is not a human, and he's just the sort to act out his bitterness rather than accept his lot.

  • All wasabi is not equal. I blew out my sinuses yesterday on the most wee amount daubed onto a slab of rice and salmon. And then, as a result, I blew out some throat mucus onto a digital camera that was not mine. Be happy that the camera was not yours, because I just wiped it down before anyone saw and handed it back. I'm nice like that.

  • Sometimes, Wednesdays can feel like Fridays. This puts my sense of time two days behind, which means that I get to feel like my week is two days longer than normal, and because this chronological aphasia happened to me on a Wednesday, it means that my work week will feel like seven instead of five days long. I took out my frustration in the bathroom at work and used the hand cream to soothe my chapped ass. I did. Because my ass is actually chapped. It smells like field berries now.

  • Basic baby oil might work on cradle cap, but it does nothing for a chapped butt.