The list of things I ought to be doing is daunting. So, of course, I'm fooling around with my blog instead.
Having just endured picking up Z in the nightmarish High School parking lot, (where I was almost creamed by other vehicles like three times), I need some chill time. Or a margarita. Ack. I live five minutes away. It took 45 minutes to get home. Yeah, it's that bad. Finals week, you know?
I'm also updating my resume (again) in case Dionne Warwick is hiring psychic friends. I have decided the job market is utterly sucktastic. I should write Harlequin Romance Novels. I bet the pay is pretty decent.
I must also avoid the kitchen, where an excellent vanilla bean cake, fresh strawberries and real whipped cream beckon.
'Cuz I already had that for breakfast, yo.