So, I've eaten dinner, fed the babens (cereal!), medicated the babens (ear infection), boobed the babens and cribbed the babens. I'm so excited to have some time to myself, I'm not really sure where to start.
Do I do the responsible stuff, like pay bills, clean my closet, organize the overflowing freezer? Hells no. First order of business? Get to the magnifying mirror and have the pickfest of a lifetime. I had so many unattended to black and whiteheads that I could barely keep my fingernails steady with anticipation. It was brilliant. Though my face is almost as swollen as a car accident victim's, it is mercifully clean of dirty blemishes.
Yahoo! What next? BLOG!
Okay, I really meant to get right to it, but my responsibility gene flared for a moment as I passed the dishwasher and laundry room. Just a quick detour, that's all it was. A few dishes into the machine, one load of whites and we are on the way.
Comfortably nestled in front of Brett Michaels and the Rock of Love Bus (that's right, I have a little trailer trash in me - I do live in Florida, remember?) I am ready to roll. I've got a bit of Top Chef catching up to do and then I am going to bed to catch up on that far away old friend known as REM...
Oh, and for your viewing pleasure: