Yeah, so I was wearing the fat jeans.

When I was still in an egg, and not yet hatched, I'm pretty sure someone shook me.  That would explain a lot of things such as why, that one time in Mazatlan I kept on pressing the "open" button on the elevator while expecting the elevator doors to close.  That went on for an embarrassing length of time until my friend actually restrained me from touching the elevator panel any further.  It would also shed light on why I thought I would be able to leap off my back porch, latch onto the clothesline and be able to use it like some glorified backyard zip line, and why I ever thought riding my bike while simultaneously "walking" my 80lb German Shepard/Husky cross was a bright idea.  Additionally, the time I got my own comb tangled in my hair when I was in 6th grade is a lot more understandable: Shaken Egg Syndrome.
Shaken Egg Syndrome has pervaded my twenties and thirties.  I was actually reading on Wikipedia today that Shaken Egg Syndrome (SES for short) really comes home to roost (pardon the pun) in one's mid thirties.  SES can actually be fatal as it espouses poor decision making skills which beget, um, even more inadequate decision making skills.  It can basically be summarized as idiocy compounded.
There are some surprising upsides to SES though, so those afflicted can take heart.  I just haven't figured out what they are yet, besides small breasts, a sardonic sense of humour and an overall impatience for the general populace.
In other news, I slept on the couch from 4:30am on this morning.  And by "couch" I mean love seat.  And by "sleep" I mean "lay there angrily until falling asleep at the last minute".  It was the snoring again.  No amount of poking or prodding would cease its relentless onslaught.  And after a prolonged amount of poking and prodding (and punching, pinching, kicking and slapping) I simply acknowledged that Michael was very tired and that was why he was snoring and I didn't want to interrupt his sleep and so to the couch I went.
A wonderful start to the day, surely.
We worked through the SES, though, as we are wont to do.  We made a Friday night out of our Wednesday night.  We came to the conclusion that it is because we love each other so much that we keep on moving forward despite my flare ups, which are spectacular.
As a sign that we were on the right path today it was Michael that found a penny on our walk.  It's always, always me that finds the penny (except for that one time I picked up that cursed Euro in New York and a bunch of bad things happened until I gave it away).
The penny is always a harbinger of good, and no one deserves it more than Michael.