Huggable.

Why yes, I am.    I mean, I think that goes without saying.

But so are my clothes hangers. Some of them, at least. (I admit I’m a fan of the Joy Mangano Huggable Hangers.) And if I give in to my Vicodin-induced shopping desires, they ALL could be. Because I’m still here, on my couch, reclining and recovering from breaking my pinky toe.

When I really don’t feel well - when I feel so unwell I can’t seem to form a coherent thought - I watch home shopping TV networks. I can’t stop myself. I rarely buy anything, but I’m enthralled by the sales techniques and the enthusiasm. And today? It is nearly impossible to resist buying this awesome collection of 120 hot pink clothes hangers, which promise to transform my tiny, cramped closet into a thing of color-coordinated, super-organized beauty.

Sigh. Because I’m weaning off the pain pills, I have enough resolve to stop myself. My closet is a little cramped, but it’s fine. I can live without 120 new hangers, and I can use that $100 to do a bunch of other fun things. I’m OK right here, in my teeny apartment, with my cramped closet. Here. Still on the couch.

I think I’ll turn off the TV.