It's been one of those weeks. I am behind on sleep and ahead on headaches, and looking slightly worse for wear....a bit death-warmed-overish. Unfortunately, today we were scheduled to sign our life insurance policies. I thought the whole reheated death portrayal might mess with our agent's confidence in my youth and vitality...so I allowed my hand to go heavy with the blusher.

Miles picked me up and immediately he was aflutter with compliments. Well, as "aflutter" as my Miles gets. Pat, with whom we met, was also quite generous with complimentary utterances.

Fraudulent smile plastered to my face, I thanked them both and realized that I must usually look like crap. Or, perhaps, that I look my best made up as a floozy.

We've become big gum-chewers around here. Admittedly, it is my fault, I found my old addiction last January, after the perils of Holiday Gluttony. It tends to keep the munching at bay. Miles was a quick advocate of the habit upon my return, and there are times we shop for the soul purpose of gum restocking. Sad, but oh so true.

Last time, while I grabbed several packs of peppermint, Miles decided to try the new Eclipse Cherry Chill gum. I like minty, he likes fruity. Admittedly, upon smelling the gum, I thought of my momma's favorite birthday dessert—cherry chip cake—and my mouth watered. I observed my adoring husband's face as we tried the new flavor, and there a passed a remnant of his "I don't know if I want to gag or burp" expression. I asked tentatively, "How is it?"

"Interesting," he replied, looking nice and green. I distracted him with tangent-heavy conversation, a tactic that usually confuses him enough to forget his troubles, until he pinkened up a bit. (Is 'pinken' a word? Doubtful...but it'll do.)

I had nearly forgotten the incident until this afternoon when I grabbed some gum from the drawer, the termed "Gum Drawer", if you will. I was focused on something else, not paying attention to the chewsome fare that I was selecting. (Again, what's with "chewsome"? I should get in contact with Webster...I could give 'im some doozies.) Cherry Chill gum is nothing short of disgusting, I promise you that. It's like chewing stale, solidified cough syrup.

I feel an obligation to say something positive about this gum — the glass is always half full, and all that..

I'd have to say that this gum is absolutely perfect for anybody senile, or those who use a tasting-mouth dog. If you fit either of these categories, the cherry-laced with antiseptic palette is sure to please. Enjoy. Blechhkh.

I have been distinctly out of sorts as of late, something you might have picked up on by the lack of posts. Oh, you're a quick bunch, you are!

Miles has been dropping pounds like crazy. He looked at me almost accusatorily the other morning and said, "I don't know why, but I'm losing weight!"

I've had such inklings in the past, but now I'm almost certain of it: Miles is no woman. A woman would view unexpected weight loss as a gift from the highest heavens and perhaps even keep it to herself so as not to break the spell. I've been beneath the cloud of headache for awhile now, but his incriminating gaze still had me shaking my head.

I replied, "And! By God! The bank account has extra, unexpected money! Why must we keep suffering so? Why does the world deal us so harshly!?"

He gave me his, "stop trying to be funny, it's not working" look and tied his shoes. We haven't discussed it since.