![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
corvaxgirlLast night:
Me: Put on table, please.
Jow: No.
Me: Put. On. Table.
Jow: No.
Me: How dare you! I'm the Empress of Cocktail-Land! Put! On! Table!
Jow: You're merely a figurehead.
Me (hisses): You take that back.
. . . this is all in reference to a small plate, so you can appreciate the grandiosity of the situation.
God, I don't know what it is, but I have zero willpower for work. Like, work at work, the idea of doing any actual work at home (unfun chores, making dollies, or writing). I want to make dinner and like nine million Madelines to shove down my maw washed down with wine and ice cream ending with a Mr. Gouda (three year aged Gouda) orgasm and watch like 12 hours of Lifetime movies about Teens Gone Wrong will spinning like 50 yards of yarn.
What? Surely I can't be the only one with these unholy desires.
When I am feeling exhausted or having a shitty day, these are my preferred tv viewing:
* Little Miss Perfect (child beauty pagent)
* Intervention
* Celeb Rehab
* Teen Mom
* 16 and Pregnant
* Hoarders
When one is staring down the spiral of all of that mess, it's *impossible* not to feel awesome about yourself.
I think I'm exhausted, like Hollywood exhausted. Ever since coming back from Arisia I've been working OT, putting out a million tiny (and not so tiny) fires (AHHHHHHHH! Your car doesn't have oil any more! AHHHHHHHHHHH! Computer emergency with Mothra/Melissa. AHHHHHHHHHH! [delete]'s husband has cancer! AHHHHHHHHHH! [deleted]'s mom died (also of cancer!) AHHHHHHHHHH! [deleted] is fighting with [alsodeleted] and [alsodeleted] doesn't know it . . .yet! AHHHHHHHHHH! Run a million errands! AHHHHHHHHHH! Figure out your travel plans! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! You're a bridesmaid! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Your story needs massive work!).
I'm done. I'm burned out. Tonight I will be indulging in all my dark desires and probably Sat too and then Sun I will attempt to get a "normal" (HAHAHAHAHA) schedule going with housework, cooking, crafting, writing, and exercise.
We'll see.
Me: Put on table, please.
Jow: No.
Me: Put. On. Table.
Jow: No.
Me: How dare you! I'm the Empress of Cocktail-Land! Put! On! Table!
Jow: You're merely a figurehead.
Me (hisses): You take that back.
. . . this is all in reference to a small plate, so you can appreciate the grandiosity of the situation.
God, I don't know what it is, but I have zero willpower for work. Like, work at work, the idea of doing any actual work at home (unfun chores, making dollies, or writing). I want to make dinner and like nine million Madelines to shove down my maw washed down with wine and ice cream ending with a Mr. Gouda (three year aged Gouda) orgasm and watch like 12 hours of Lifetime movies about Teens Gone Wrong will spinning like 50 yards of yarn.
What? Surely I can't be the only one with these unholy desires.
When I am feeling exhausted or having a shitty day, these are my preferred tv viewing:
* Little Miss Perfect (child beauty pagent)
* Intervention
* Celeb Rehab
* Teen Mom
* 16 and Pregnant
* Hoarders
When one is staring down the spiral of all of that mess, it's *impossible* not to feel awesome about yourself.
I think I'm exhausted, like Hollywood exhausted. Ever since coming back from Arisia I've been working OT, putting out a million tiny (and not so tiny) fires (AHHHHHHHH! Your car doesn't have oil any more! AHHHHHHHHHHH! Computer emergency with Mothra/Melissa. AHHHHHHHHHH! [delete]'s husband has cancer! AHHHHHHHHHH! [deleted]'s mom died (also of cancer!) AHHHHHHHHHH! [deleted] is fighting with [alsodeleted] and [alsodeleted] doesn't know it . . .yet! AHHHHHHHHHH! Run a million errands! AHHHHHHHHHH! Figure out your travel plans! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! You're a bridesmaid! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Your story needs massive work!).
I'm done. I'm burned out. Tonight I will be indulging in all my dark desires and probably Sat too and then Sun I will attempt to get a "normal" (HAHAHAHAHA) schedule going with housework, cooking, crafting, writing, and exercise.
We'll see.
