I Have A Terrible Feeling Of Déjà Vu

Jenny the Bloggess has retired to her chambers to concentrate on her magnum opus.

Again.

I can picture her now: seated at her writing desk with a goose quill in her hand, her faithful hound Barnaby Jones Pickles seated at her feet (artistic licence), a huge powdered wig perched atop her head with bottles of Xanax and vodka secreted away in its hidden depths. A sheet of parchment gradually filling with elegant curlicued copperplate as she channels the spirit of Nancy W. Kappes, paralegal.

You go, girl!