Here's the Pompeii floor. I understand the dream now, the tomato sauce stains and grease are going to be eternally trapped under the new tile floor and I will never be able to clean it up. :) Either that or I have hidden subconscious garbage in my brain I can never reach in my waking moments. Or, I need to get out and play more. Or, all of the above.
Here's what playing with stepping stones does to fingers. As you can see, we struggle to wear the splint correctly.
Here's what it does to your garden: the only plants that have survived were previously established, the rest fared much worse than the thumb.
BUT, I just might get some tomatoes to grow to maturity! Whoopee!
As for the PMS, it is gone and the chill pill is not chocolate coated, it is entirely made up of chocolate, it's called Ghirardelli Dark Chocolate Chips. It does nothing for my memory, however, which has reached all time lows recently. It's annoying the heck out of me, I get sidetracked and lost in thought way too easy so I am not a paragon of efficiency like I wish I was. Maybe a higher dose of chocolate? Laced in Ritalin?