Flock

Great day Signals that I may wish to be a Housewife

Today was astoundingly great in the manner in which it was exceedingly normal:

Woke up to my dog staring directly in my eyes as per usual, after tucking him back in I got up and had a bath, where I got to use my new yuppy organic peach/ willow bark scrub. It had an extremely nut-butter scent, but I can never call it that in real life because of innuendo. Nut-butter.

Have delicious Special K, dog barks at deer in the yard, finish decorating Christmas tree, put the ornaments that have pictures of me when I was fat at the back. Admire handy work.

Watch four or five episodes of Frasier, miss the 90s. Admire my excellent looking hair. Realize I love middle parts for the hundredth time. Is this because of the 90s?

Head down to Il Vecchio’s for amazing italian double meat sandwich served by old italin grandmothers, devour.

Go to Blenz for light dirty reading, and oddly floral earl grey, realize my fly had been undone since I left the house.

Pick up the mother, go to Walmart for its untold visual joys, by Blu-ray player. Go home and enjoy Micheal Jackson videos in mega-super-extreme hi-def.

Realize I haven’t done anything for my internship in two weeks, attempt to half-ass something.

Enjoy the scent of cheese sauce being cooked by not me, for my enjoyment!

Excellent usage of time in which nothing of any relevance is accomplished. Can’t be bothered to care.