- My underwear is moving in ways it shouldn't underneath these pants.
- I'm typing with handwarmers on, because I'm so cold. Thank goodness for Earl Grey and Malabrigo.
- I don't think I have a single top that can hide my chubby anymore.
- HM says my favorite pair of jeans are Mom jeans. It's too unsettling for her to be right, but she has the knowing sisterly look. drat. The pants I'm contemplating getting rid of, because I think they are unflattering and possibly a too young cut, she says ... are fine, if not better than my MOM jeans. wtf. How has this happened. I mean I know I've given up a bit ... but ... sigh.
- My husband is threatening to pick up my Crate and Barrel tower of Craft love. Must manage my expectations, because everything won't fit in there.
- If I want to make a potroast ... the el dorado of cooking attempts as HM calls it, I should get the groceries for it on Saturday. I can do this, but do I want to is the question ... is the thrill going?
- If I don't get to knit for a sufficient amount of time for the next three days I might strangle someone.
- HM said I deserve to knit this weekend. I would knit myself into a momentary coma if I could.
- Riding the Peaks of manic depression right now. HM said that my house wasn't the hoarding cluttering disaster she expected. (I didn't show her the pit of dispair)
- Would my chakras misalign if I used a camping mat for a yoga mat?
- I will have to watch my son's Club Penguin intake. This stuff is bizarre. Watch for a future analysis post.
- I can feel my husband's grumpy from here. Going downtown during rush hour to pick up a heavy piece of furniture really has got him sunshiney. hehe
- Maybe I can suggest pizza to keep them each calm.
Friday, December 3, 2010
Friday's perspective is no lie, kind of messed up. I don't know, maybe it was the slow slow start I had. I still feel the weight of sleep in my eyes. Maybe I simply am a moody beast and need a laugh.