We are touching down occasionally in our own home lately. Between out of town gigs that take us to my parents' awesome home and visiting loved ones in Montana, and more out of town gigs for the next ten days, we are seldom in one place for long. Which is actually quite wonderful until somebody gets sick.
I think I'm getting mastitis. Do NOT google that, unless you enjoy seeing disgusting boob pictures spewed out by the internetia. It's kind of like a cold in your milktation machinery. It makes you feel like you have the flu and mono all wrapped up in one painfully hot packet. Thank you sir, may I have another? Poor Isaac can't figure out why I turn into a stone of tension and grimace every time he needs a topping off.
I am really really looking forward to December 13th, the last day of my duties and obligations thus far. This is the first year in a while when I couldn't care less that I'm not playing a single Nutcracker. We'll just get the DVD from the library and call it good.
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