It is summer. People aren't supposed to get sick in the summer. So why do I keep having to do pukey laundry?
I just realized, just now, that my right hand is more tan than my left. Which makes no sense. I usually have a driver's tan on my left arm. Why would I be more tan on my right?
Crocheting is a lot more fun when you're not under insane pressure to get something done before a deadline. Especially when the deadline passes and it's still not done. Yay.
I'm on a re-organizing kick. Or rather just an organizing kick. You can't "re"-organize something that wasn't organized to begin with. And since I'm organizing, nothing is organized. The house is a disaster. But I kind of don't care.
Matt says I'm officially old. Because I crochet, and I wear glasses, and I like to go to bed at 8, and I eat Fiber One bars and prunes. I say, if I'm old, that's ok with me, because prunes are delicious, crocheting is fun, my glasses are cute, and sleeping is awesome. So phthbt.
My Clairey turns 7 on Wednesday. SEVEN. That's ridiculous.
Oh crap, I have to bake a cake.