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 It's a sad state of affairs when this earns but a minor chuckle from the Hee-Haw, Horse-Laughingest, Snort Queen likes of me - I mean come on. It's "Varmint Goes Horshack."

The truth is, my present state of affairs would best be described as sour. I've been cross all weekend and I'll be damned if I can make up any really good, original excuses as to why. (I've tried. But the sad fact is I think it's a sorry combination of hormones, a lack of imagination and everyone I know having other plans. Talk about your lame cliches.)

It started with The Spider Incident on Saturday morning and went downhill from there. [The Spider Incident: I was gardening and felt something bite my arm. I was wearing long sleeves, so I pinched the sleeve at about where the bite occurred and heard a disgusting popping noise. My fingers got wet. I run inside, shouting for The Varmint. He helps me out of my jacket, looks down the sleeve and says, "Holy sh-- , uh, I mean, no worries. It was just an itsy bitsy little spider." Well, yeah. If you're from THE AMAZON. I don't call a half-inch long abdomen and a spider-goo jacket-stain twice that size itsy bitsy. Gah!]

Poor Varmint. He deserves a medal. First, for the Saving Me From the Spider. And later for his tireless efforts at cheeriness. There was the Bringing of the Ice Cream. And The Silly, Silly Faces. And The Doing of the Doorway Soft-Shoe. All in a futile effort to make his cranky little wife crack a grin.

Instead I lie on the sofa flipping forlornly through TiVo, reading, snacking and napping, generally behaving as the Anti-Tam. Normal days, I'd be bouncing off the walls and planning photo excursions or writing or drawing or biking or hiking or cooking... Instead, I'm a little blonde Al Bundy. For the whole weekend.

The good news is that I've started to bore even myself. I expect to pull out of my nosedive tomorrow, late afternoon - say, 3pm. Yeah. That's when I'll put on some clean undies and crank some old-school Mary Poppins jams. Gonna get cheery if it kills me. A spoonful of sugar, mofos. One. Freakin'. Spoonful. If that don't snap me out of it, ain't nothin' will.

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I am a writer and lazy artist who loves travel, architecture and design. Right now, I'm into photography. My fabulous husband (a.k.a. The Varmint) and I are also the principals of a San Diego-based creative agency - and new parents to the divine Baby Mak. Read More >