It's probably not a good sign when the first thing you do when you get home is kick your shoes off, drop your purse and mail down and then go to the bottles of wine that are on your kitchen counter, unscrew one and pour yourself a tall glass of Cabernet Sauvignon, prop open your latest paranormal romance and pray that you'll win the lottery or that someone will realize your potential because God only knows when you will.
Or it could mean you have a drinking problem but I'm willing to bet that I don't.
So today sucked and with the weather gathering up to vomit poisoned water down on us, the prospect of a sunny beautiful week has turned both dismal and pretty much improbable. It's cold, gusty, muggy and with the amount of crazy hormones running through my body I'm vacillating between wanting to disappear beneath a cloud of blankets or taking everyone down with me.
It sucks to be a girl.
Book Peddler is finally up. So all you semi-literate and faithful followers should take a gander over there. If not, well, you don't have to but know that you've made the baby Jesus weep and five small adorable puppies. Oh, and you've probably let the crazy people win.
Don't let them win.
The hubsters birthday is on Thursday. He wants something quiet. Total opposite of me. It's amazing the differences between people that have decided to remain with each other for there duration of their natural lives. I would want all my friends around so that I could bask in their love and hopefully eradiate that shite right back out to them. Hubster wants to just chill with me.
God I hope these hormones go away before then. Otherwise I'm liable to be sobbing into my bottle of Merlot.
Has anyone missed the SNL that was on last week. It was one of the best for awhile. Oh Betty White you are a national treasure.
That's all for now f-f-f-f-f-f-olks.