I am fairly certain I would not pass a DUI test at the moment; I very nearly fell asleep in the shower this morning, coffee mug in hands, pondering important things like Words with Friends, art projects with Ruby, and my next nap (yeah right).
I have a reeeeally cute baby for sale or trade. Accepting paypal, cash, or cupcakes. She's mostly house broken, she delights in no sleep, screeching loudly, and being extraordinarily cute. She enjoys cooking, cleaning, and long walks on the beach.
Fine, that's a lie. But I stand by the cute statement (and the no sleep and screeching part). And if you want to pay me or give me cupcakes, who am I to stop you?
cuteness, exhibit a: the bookworm:
I'm tempted to call the good folks at Google and ask them what is wrong with the password picklejuice. I'm going to go ahead and blame this choice for a new and improved password on a) starvation and b) extreme exhaustion, but really Google, that's a weak password? If I lived the life of a computer hacking genius, I would never guess it.
I have spent the last three days working on sewing a minky blanket. Never ever ever again. Minky is worth its weight in gold if you purchase something already made. My sewing machine should count itself lucky that it wasn't launched through the window and into a new lifestyle as a lawn ornament. If you ever want a glimpse of yourself as a certified psycho, go buy yourself so pretty pink minky to worth with; I can guarantee you your husband will see a completely new side of you.
I have the lightest sleeping baby in the world.
Chips are stale.
I can only have ten anyway.
Coffee is too far away and I don't dare move for fear of waking monster baby.
There is a thin layer of minky remains covering my entire house.
I was just barely able to get a shower before aformentioned monster baby demanded my presence.
I resemble a drowned rat.
An exhausted drowned rat.
Woe is me. I'm going shopping.