I know it’s getting to me when. . .

• I look at my calendar and try to think of reasons to get out of every appointment on it.
• I tell everyone on Facebook to put out their flags for Veteran’s Day and promptly forget to do it myself.
• My family has to get their clean underwear (and pretty much anything else) from the huge pile of unfolded laundry in the corner of my bedroom.
• Making the bed means the bedspread is pulled up over the pillows.
• The fridge looks like my Mom’s – four cartons of half and half (two open), three half-empty bottles of ketchup, six pounds of butter, eight kinds of salad dressing, three bottles of beer that no one likes, cheese with sell by dates from last June and no milk.
• I don’t care if W. takes his stuffed Wallace & Gromit sheep to the restaurant and gets an extra seat, napkin and menu for it.
• I stop watching The Daily Show and the Colbert Report.
• I do all of my reading online.
• I am more interested in my Farmville Garden on Facebook than I am in my actual garden.
• Salad consists of lettuce and cucumber.  Every night.
• I don’t like answering or talking on the phone.
• I give one-word answers to questions:  “Okay.”  “Fine” “Thanks.”
• I avoid opening any e-mail with “autism” in the subject line.
• I buy a whole pomegranate.