I have no idea why I picked that title. I mean, it’s probably the only title like that out there. In two weeks, if you do a Google search, I’ll probably be the only hit. If you put it in quotes.
Sorry for leaving you in the lurch. It’s not that I was off at some glamorous ball or something. I spent most of the day yesterday with my sister’s family, we came home and crashed before 11pm. Today I was in that limbo where you thought it was Saturday all day yesterday but now you kind of think it’s Sunday but you are acutely aware that it’s not Sunday. Except it’s a holiday and there’s no mail so that continues to screw you up. I think tomorrow is Sunday. I am going to go with that assumption.
I need to buy a pair of pants or two, but after all the crap I’ve eaten the last two days, I’m not sure this is the best time to be shopping for pants, if you catch my drift. I think hot wings, onion dip and shrimp cocktail are not on anyone’s suggested diet. Well, maybe the shrimp, but the 4 layer dip (I have no burning desire for the three layers I left out…) killed the benefits of that dead.
I had a small glass of champagne (I was driving) early in the evening. Actually, I tried a sip of a second bottle they opened and I can tell you that the Moet was the better of the two, even if Martha Stewart recommended the other one. I am not champagne expert, and I’m sure she knows what she was talking about, but the Moet was way better. You can take that recommendation to the bank.
My baby turns seven on Thursday. Maybe I’m just feeling overwhelmed by that. He’s a baby, you see. My widdle shmooky wooky. Except for the being seven part. Yeesh.
