Basically, people, I feel like I’ve been sleepwalking through the past month.
Even yesterday, when I had plenty of work to do at, you know, actual work – I stayed home with a whiny toddler and firepee thanks to being female and having, apparently, a short urethra. *bows to the TMI audience*
So I could have done schoolwork, right? The geneaology paper that is due today. Or the research paper that is due tomorrow. Both are still barebones and need work.
Instead, though, I spent the day watching Big Love on demand, flushing out my system with echinacea and vitamin C, thinking about the past and the future and how to best go about making pumpkin muffins.
So what did I accomplish? I lessened my infection, I think. I pondered what my hair would look like a la Ginnifer Goodwin in Season Three. I made the muffins. I vacuumed the floor. I did work a bit on the papers.
I can’t say I made much eternal progress in anything yesterday. Except the muffins. They were amazing.
I take lots of pictures, and while mostly I don’t care much what anyone thinks about the background of my pictures and a shrink would tell me that focusing on the negative just reflects insecurity, the fact is this:
some things are just butt ass ugly.
This is a fact, and I’m sorry if you love ugly furniture.
A little bit before the new year, someone or another needed to look at a couch and there was nowhere to put the couch but the living room or something along those lines, and then suddenly there was this new puffy couch in the house.
Whoever needed to look at it apparently didn’t want it and wherever it came from didn’t want it back, so we have it still. And I’ll just go ahead and get this out of the way…the thing is hideous. No wonder no one wanted it. I’m talking repulsive, shocking, swollen rancid sashimi disgusting.
I realize there are people who don’t have things to sit on and don’t have houses to sit in. I know this and I am grateful that there is a place to park my ass.
But still. I’m just saying. The thing is ugly.
And while I sit on it and I exist with it in my life, I felt the need to warn others. You too can be overtaken by speckled wooly wood paneled misery. It can happen to you.