Stomach thing: 1, Rae: 0

Down for the count.

At the countdown.

Saturday. On Saturday, my beloved will walk through the door in that tall swinging way he has. He will be exhausted and well-traveled. We will jump on him regardless.

And today I am sick, and not sure that I will make it. I am dragging myself through the day. I'm tired of the glad game. I miss him.

So we are watching BBC nature flicks. And eating mangos. And I am lying on the floor a lot. Only four days to go.