Naked Furniture Building may never be the darling of the Olympics, but those of us XXXTREME enough to master the sport have our share of battle scars.

I’m back at work again, and my head is about to explode. Everything seems to be happening all at once – something about my being away for an entire week – and I’m barely keeping the cool for which I am so renowned. It absolutely doesn’t help that my uterus is misbehaving by cramping up my business four days early, and some incredibly stupid girls in the gas station gave me an ulcer by being so vapid it almost caused a black hole. My stress is giant and gaping. My stress is goatse.

I know I’ve promised a Vegas recap, but I don’t know when I’m going to have a free moment to get to it. I had a very good time, and was fortunate enough to work with some amazing people: John, Chris, Mike, Luz, Richard, Candace, Tatum, Drew, Cynthia – all of them went out of their way to make me feel welcome and special – almost embarrassingly so; I’m surprised I didn’t gain a hat size or two while I was out there. Mike even brought Marshmallow Fluff, peanut butter and Wonder Bread straight from Massachusetts so we could all have a traditional Fluffernutter Sandwich (surprisingly tasty). I got to hang out with Sara and Alana for a bit, had dinner with Bjorn, and made some friends. CES2K7 for the win.

No one called me Mama Cass, either.

Holy CRAP where did all this astronaut work come from? AHHHHHH!