1. For years I have been hounding Wood to let me quit my job and stay the hell home.
What the HELL was I thinking. I always say, "Well if I didn't have to work, shit would get done around here!" Ha! Very funny, Mandy. Been off two days and what have you done?
-3 loads of laundry
-swept the floors (need swept again)
-loaded the furnace like 6 times (6 times in like 8 years? Can't even count that.)
-smoked 2 packs of Marlboros
-started one slightly slutty paranormal book that keeps me yelling at the Kindle, "Shoot that MF'er! He's a DEMON, you whore!", at which point my husband knocks on the bathroom door and asks me if I might require a spoon. (Apparently any sounds of distress provoke Wood into trying to help the poor constipated bastard in the john, i.e., a spoon.)
-ate an entire family size bag of Chex Mix
-made a peanut butter pie and some dog treats
-wasted like, I don't know, 8 hours on Blogger laughing out loud in an empty house like a crazy person
-made calls to the NCAAP and the Rev. Al Sharpton after I was a victim of racism, and it really hurt my chicken-shit feelings.
-texted Wood and told him to pick up whipping cream and milk due to aforementioned clusterf&$^
-I cut off my hair
-successfully drank enough Tom Collins while watching Sister Wives that I'm pretty sure Christine hates me now, but that broad hates herself.
-cuddled with my furbaby Petey and told him that he didn't need to worry, Mommy would protect him and direct the zombies to her stepchildren first.
2. Tomorrow I turn 29. Jesus, does everyone feel this way. I woke up and have freaking "fine lines and wrinkles", I found not one, but TWO damn gray hairs yesterday. And my knee feels arthritic. If this is 29, I'm punching 30 right in the kisser.
3. Don't you hate it when you are home, and your husband is at work and you start feeling all domestic? I should have thought this little vay-cay out. He's at work, I'm at home= I have to cook dinner. This morning before my coffee high wore off I promised him fried chicken, homemade biscuits, gravy and greens. Now its almost 4 o'clock and he'll be home in like thirty minutes, and the only thing I have going for me is a good hair day. I don't want to fry no chicken! That was another woman who said that...
an energetic 28-year-old.
Maybe it's not too late to convince him to pick up some Gin and some tenderloins from the pub?