like drugs, but cheaper

And then today I skipped out of the house on a wave of uncharacteristic physical energy. Like a caffeine buzz. I still feel kind of stunned and spacy, but my voice sounds perky like a Chianti waitress (You mean the ravioli quattro formaggio? Oh, sure! You bet. I'll just get you some more bread to munch on!).

It figures that my instant scenario involves food. Last night as we were driving home, Sam said, "You know, I'm going to start cooking really excellent food when we're done this. I think I could make a really great pizza with a homemade thin crust, nice piquant tomato sauce - I'd put artichoke hearts and maybe some shrimp-"

And then we veered off the road and smashed into pizza hut and had to be pulled from the saliva-drenched wreckage.

Just kidding. We're actually doing OK, she said perkily.