I have been so sick. Brianna has been coming and very sweetly saying, "Oh, Mommy, I'm so sorry you don't feel good. I hope you feel all well really really quick." Awww. Then the punchline, " . . . so you can tell me the Pinky story and play school with me and help me paint and . . ." All of the named benefits of my recovery were things to make her own life a little more fun or convenient. there's something there about my prayers, but I am too much of a zorp to get it. Zorp is our new word for someone whose head is so filled with disgusting infected mucus that there is no room for meaningful thought processes--or even functional thought processes--to occur. A zorp goes into the kitchen to get somethng and then wanders off empty-handed, leaving the refrigerator door wide open. A zorp comes up with "foofa" when the computer says to select a new password. A zorp is a pitiful thng to be. And I am currently the posterchild for zorpitude.