I have two scrapes on the back of my hand from smashing it two different times on the bottom of the stair railing. As it turns out, there is a rather sharp edge on the end of the railing. They don’t look like much, but son of a mother they hurt. It should also be mentioned that I was carrying a laundry basket both times and therefore must stand by my claim: Laundry is fucking…
… Apparently the only thing I am capable of writing here as of late are bulleted lists. … My sinuses are revolting again. At first I thought it was allergies. Bob’s allergies were kicking in, mine probably were too. But then there was the sore throat, the fever, and the feeling that I got hit by a truck. That lasted a few days but the sinuses have held out much longer. Neither allergy nor cold…
S: Should I sign up for an Instagram account now that I have an Android device? R: Don’t be a douche. (and then I laughed out loud because it’s like he knows me) — — Jesus Was a Test Tube Baby Stage
S: A thirty-three-year-old woman and an eighteen-year-old guy…could it work? R: Honey, you’re not allowed to have an eighteen-year-old boyfriend. S: Dammit. Way to ruin my plans. — — Brand New Me Nine Days
… I have twenty-eight posts sitting in drafts. Apparently writer’s block is prevalent everywhere. … We had dinner with the family for Tommy’s birthday. I smell like a charcoal grill. … Temperatures hit 70 degrees. FRESH AIR IN MY HOUSE. … I baked cookies. Brown sugar cookies with butterscotch chips, if you’re curious. Caboose should be quite pleased. … Cooooookieeeeees. … I’m making Hot & Sour soup tomorrow. Or today, I suppose, because it’s 4:30…
After a recent appointment, Bob and I were in the area so we stopped for smoothies at the Caribou where we had our first date. This was hanging from the ceiling. Sums up those eight hours quite perfectly, methinks. — Brand New Day Ryan Star
