Ham is consistently pink, and also salty-sweet. It's okay, although I definitely prefer that it be spiral-cut (so it's "clean"—my brain is weird) and preferably moderately burned, so it's got that dry, crumbly, carmelized thing going on.

Oh, god . . . I'm about to become That Person on BCO. (And that's not even the worst of what I'm about to say!)

*sigh*

This. And trefoils should be relegated to the bottom of the cookie tree.

I tend to lean into it pre-coffee, myself.

walk like Frankenstein with arms outstretched in front of you

Out of the scope of this particular article, but I would love some hints on my problem . . .

Oh, lovely. So it really is a marathon. Any tips?

That *is* good news—that's the brand I use! I can do the sublinguals as long as they're NOT the cherry ones, which make me immediately ill.

This. I mean, it even would have made sense if they'd found the brand "Tranquil Experiences Organic Farms All-Natural Restorative and Supplement Pills", carried by Walmart, Target, etc, to be nothing but alfalfa. That's just a bunk brand in an already suspect field.

That's actually my fear. My doctor has me on daily doses of both of these, but I just buy them from the store—they're not prescription form.

I can only apologize, because it has become clear to me that *my* mother in Georgia is probably also calling you. (Not sure how she's got time to do that between the frantic calls to me.)

Randomly replying to an old comment (working on some New Year financial goal-setting), but I was reading this article today, and then saw your comment.

OMG. I have friends—dear friends—to whom this applies perfectly. If I break out laughing next time I see them, I'm blaming you.

A million times yes. I fell crossing the street a couple years ago. Managed to drag myself out of the traffic, up a lightpost, and hobble to the bus shelter, where I was convinced if I just sat a while, I'd be able to walk it off. (Looking back, I was in so much pain that I really wasn't logical. I couldn't even…

Oh, this made me tear up! Raising my mug of tea to that good lady!

What a beautiful statement. Thank you for this—it really is the emotional support that we value so much in those moments, isn't it?

Georgia's in on that game, too.

I hate my work voicemail with the fire of a thousand burning suns. Hate hate hate hate hate it. Let it die.

Meetup with my favorite people at my favorite bar . . . and I'm on the wrong coast that day.