Notice how my eye patch is kinda in the shape of the contiguous United States.

So I’ve been doing this thing with the chickens for the past few days, where they flap around inside their enclosure for a few seconds before lighting on my arm or my shoulder or, once, my head. It makes me giggle like a maniac, because,well, it’s hard not to giggle when you’re wearing a chicken. As a hat.

Until one of them pecks you in the eyeball.

This puts a whole new spin on those one-eyed pirates and their shoulder-parrots of yore.

My left eye feels like half a pound of ground glass has been poured into it. Like I’ve been slapped across the face by the scabrous hand of the devil himself. Which, for some reason has caused my left sinus cavities to declare an emergency and seal themselves shut. So I’m  functioning on one eye and one nostril. Plus, I need to write a twelve-page paper about volcanoes.

The upside? I feel justified in consuming more wine than I normally would on a weeknight. And my husband keeps feeding me cheese.

Because, you know. Cheese makes everything better.

And also: I may now be officially qualified to sell pencils on the street corner.