Sounds so regal doesn’t it? I have a crown, ceremonial sash and scepter. But I have no idea where they might be right now. I have a little purse, with an even littler ID that says I am the Queen. It would be funnier if it wasn’t true. I still know the day of the week, the date and who the president is (lame-o as he might be)but the dry cleaning that’s been sitting in a variety of high profile locations is still sitting there.

So I’m driving the royal offspring to the Orthodontist today which means I get, um I mean have to leave work early. I’m hoping this is the last appointment before my oldest gets them off so A) she’ll stop being upset about it and B) so I don’t have to leave work early and drive them there anymore. I still have to pay for this grand reconstruction for another 3 years. But I won’t be driving back and forth so much.

Tomorrow I will have both my breasts smashed flat as pancakes for the glory of science. I should know within a few days what the bump that doesn’t belong there is.

That’s the last of the drivel I can pump out for today.