I was going to blog when I got back to Nashville yesterday.

But my fingertips were throbbing.  I couldn’t type or unbutton things or make toast.  Ok, actually.  I could make toast.  But it hurt.  But it was delicious.  I love toast.

My fingertips were throbbing because I chewed my nails to pieces on the three and a half hour drive north.

I chewed my nails because I was nervous and a wee bit stressed.

I was nervous and a wee bit stressed because I was listening to The Hobbit.  Seriously.  Am I supposed to be completely fine when Bilbo has to rescue 12 dwarfs from spider web cocoons?  He is a hobbit, people.  He’s tiny.  How does Tolkien expect Bilbo to save the day?  Sheesh.

I was listening to The Hobbit because Caroline told me it was a great book and this was the best recording of a book that has ever existed on the face of the planet.  And it is.  I’m 3/4 of the way through and I’m loving it.

And because I was home in Marietta, I went to Caroline‘s house.  And because that’s how Caroline rolls, I was only there for about 7 minutes when I had a bowl of soup in my hands and the box set of The Hobbit CDs in my lap.

And yesterday I drove and listened and chewed away.  And was slightly amazed at Bilbo’s skillz.

So the fact that I didn’t write a profound and/or ridiculous and/or hilarious and/or inspirational and/or mediocre blog yesterday is Caroline‘s fault.

Thanks, Caroline.  Love you.