(click to enbiggen)
What I'm not telling you is that all of that was consumed in one day. In the Starbucks bag? Maybe coffee cake. And that tall container on the right? Totally vodka. And that iced coffee? Whole milk. Which: ewww. And also: Mmmm. All delivered by my loveslave. Who every time he leaves the room asks "What can I get you?".
I spent the entire weekend feeble and cranky while using the cat as a pillow. What I presumed were allergies for the past two weeks were actually a slow buildup to the Worst Head Cold Ever. I stayed propped up all night watching Jon Stewart reruns rather than lay down and be faced with 800 pound sinuses. Chris was so pleased. Especially since I also ate crunchy chips and kept the lights on.
My head cold wouldn't be news (and honestly it still isn't) except for that we are supposed to be listing our house TOMORROW. Which meant Chris spent his days off gutting the entire backyard by himself and making numerous runs to the store for me. For sustenance.
[Here's a riddle: If a thumb is hammered on the side of a house in the suburbs and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound to your selfish whore of a wife inside who continues typing? The answer is no m'kay?]
So I was useless this weekend, which is just a notch below how I am generally. I did manage to get up Sunday afternoon and at least clean the office. See? Pretty Ikea boxes. FILLED with ugly pointless crap.
And a clean desk. Because virtually everything is now in the garbage due to my extreme illness and also boredom with cleaning. (I sure hope that red envelope from the gas company wasn't pressing.)
You're so jealous of my Kate Spade desk calendar you can hardly see straight.
Sadly, despite Chris' best efforts and my half-assed help the house is still not ready to be shown.
I have already rescheduled with the realt*r twice and for some reason I have a problem disappointing people and I would almost rather list a house that has piles of laundry and frostbitten bushes in the front yard (only the bushes are in the front yard, not the piles of laundry; although that's a thought) than go back on my word yet again.
So, the realt*r's response when I called to delay the listing was all the more humorous. "Yes, I think that's the best idea. I drove by your house earlier." HAHAHA. Did I mention she lives on our street? And is sassy? I like her. We shall be friends.
In other news, we are going to Mexico NEXT WEEK! I am so excited that there are not enough exclamation points to convey it. Mexico!!! For a week!!! Without A Child!!! But, with many alcoholic drinks the size of a child!
This also means that we'll have another rousing round of Catalog Shopping: Look How Fool Ass I Am In These Clothes as we get closer. Mark your calendars. Even if they aren't Kate Spade. I won't hold it against you.