Bust the Funk with Mariah

This second year of residency has been a true test of optimism. I've found myself becoming progressively more jaded and after my second round of night float things were especially grim appearing. I needed a some cheer and sparkle, and so as soon as the American Thanksgiving was within arms reach I put up my Christmas tree to bring some happy into my living room. Yes, I am admitting to commiting a crime against Christmas. I am almost that lady on the Target commerical who wears a bow sweater and trains for the holidays. Judge me if you will but it warms my heart to walk in to the sparkly, shiny ornaments clad tree.

And don't forget, the holidays have not begun until Mariah Carey rings through the malls.

Is anyone still out there: or a post about food poisoning

Well, hello old friends! It has been far too long. Almost a year after my soggy noodle of an attempt at completing 365 days of blogging, I return to write again. I have been brought back to the world of DFM by a brief spurt of food poisoning. As I lay here on the couch, recovering from the revenge of my colon I took a few moments to ponder all the things missing from my life. I miss creativity and I miss writing my nonesense.

I sat on the bathroom floor holding my cramping abdomen this evening, processing the possibility that I was dying and in the event that this should surmise began to think of all the things I had yet to experience. And so here we go, once again I pick up the proverbial pen, to write about my mundane days with disproportionate drama. If you have experienced DFM in the past, you will recall that I will test your patience with sporadically timed posts.

Now that the nausea seems to be abating and the associated delirium subsides, let me offer some advice: always cook your mozarella sticks until the cheese oozes out. If your rush those things they will hit hard, with a severe case of pukey buckets.