Well today's the day, the day I make all your dreams come true. But never mind that.
Today is also the day I have to start writing my two digit age with the number 3. To give you a better idea of the state of me and my environs, this week I have:
-consumed a bag of popcorn (snack size okay) and a can of Hansen's Vanilla Cola every night around midnight.
-stayed in my pajamas. Put jeans on once while in a motivated mood and decided it wasn't worth the loss of comfort. Put pajamas back on.
-stayed in my house. Only ventured out to throw a bag of dirty diapers outside the door.
-went braless, mostly because of the above mentioned hermit-ness (did you know it feels strange and irritating to have bosom support after nearly a week of being shackle free?)
- lost a lot of sleep because of a strange humming noise in my bedroom. The Husband says he can't hear it. I think he's working on some elaborate April Fool's joke to get back at me for last year.
-watched too much stuff on Hulu.
-decided most of T.V. is bad acting . . . but I watch it anyway to make me feel better about the split between Keira Knightley and Rupert Friend, therefore dashing all hopes she could one day be known as Mrs. Friend.
-rededicated myself to the eating of chocolate, after a brief moment of insanity.
-made peace with the universe. Bribery was involved. Universe likes flattery too.
-was reminded that with age comes wisdom. And I need that because usually I'm pretty dense. So bring it on! (the wisdom I mean)
-decided to embrace myself. Really. I gave myself a hug. It was dumb.
-heard Bosco say, "I love you Mommy" about thirty times. I don't think that number is a coincidence.
. . . and I'm still waiting on that cheesecake.
Have a lovely weekend my dear poopsies. I plan on starting this decade of mine off all supastar like, and also getting more smarter in the process.