Up betimeish, but not as betimesly as yesterday when I went to 6 a.m. “death march” yoga (as it is being referred to by a certain wag). HOLY HOPPIN TACOS am I out of shape. It’s like I did nothing by cook, slurp gravy, and write all year. My muscles between my ribs are sore.

SECONDLY, Veronica Bock, Orpington extraordinaire, is growing her pink comb back now that the days are longer. She looked slightly startled this morning with her red-rimmed eyes and now this pink comb. I have no hope that she will start laying again, though.

Today I was forced out for lunch, but did not feel like going to a place with, you know, tables and humans and stuff, so I went to Jack-in-the-Box. The drive thru chick looked like her drive thru place was probably the MAC counter. She had swoopy cat’s eye makeup and some serious highlights going on. I was amazed. She gave me some tips.

“It’s time for you to make a Youtube video,” I said.

“Nooo,” she said. “This is so easy, though. It only takes five minutes!”

“For you, maybe.”

“Here, take this ranch, have you ever had ranch on your curly fries?”

“No,” I said.

“You are going to fall in love with it,” she said.

I got extra fries! Proper.