Here I sit at home. Alone. Yes, it's true that I am married to a wonderful man. Yes, it's true that I have a little puppy to love. But are they ever home? Certainly not. And while yes, it's true, I could be putting my laundry away or mopping the floorasdfghjkl;;'nnbm,anm,mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Sorry. Just got a good laugh out of that one.
I think you might be starting to understand why I started writing a blog. I'm sittin here, drinking my wine, dressed up in fancy clothes and with a fresh blowout, my dreams of going anywhere now just a vague 5:00 memory. I even shaved that dangerous grooved part of the ankle that always gets cut. The worst part is this wine sucks. I bought it to take to a friend's party that was cancelled (have brought WAY too many bottles of nice wine to parties that the hostess never even tastes and some numbnuts corks and pours into plastic cups when the beer runs out). I'm also very hungry. But need to starve myself for obvious reasons if you've seen me lately.
No, we didn't go to the farm tonight. I was actually looking forward to getting the fuck out of the dirty ass city for the long weekend but my man has some installation that didn't go as planned and is stuck at the shop. Oh well. Here I am. Alone with my thoughts. And! My good friend hunger. I am so hungry and our refrigerator so empty that I came really close to eating our Choc-Obama. Yes, it's from the election. Do the math. That hungry.
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