I would like you all to know that my Thanksgiving plate was perfectly divided into sixths with nothing overlapping. I do not like my foods to touch. Syrup and eggs on the same plate?
I’d rather wear ill fitting skinny jeans everyday for a month in August.
Cody on the other hand piles everything on top of everything else, stirs it around and glops jelly on top (since our hotel is fresh out of cranberry sauce he made do with a couple of tiny pots of blackberry jam.)
My brain currently feels like what Cody’s Thanksgiving meal looked like. It all went together but you couldn’t tell where one thing started and another thing ended. And occasionally there’s a bite of who knows what with something crunchy on top snuck in there for good measure.
This living in a hotel thing isn’t horrible. But I don’t love it. Very close to stir crazy. I’ve been rotating about four outfits since I left for Utah in the middle of November. Everything else is packed up in a box. You know what else is packed up in a box that is driving me bonkers? My personalized stationary. I really like writing notes with it. Even if the note is just “I must be a grown up because I have stationary with my name on it!”
I have all these thank you notes I want/need to write but refuse to write them on hotel stationary. So by the time they are actually uncovered I’ll have to write something like “HI. Sorry I didn’t write to you sooner to say thanks but I HAD to write it on this card because hello? LOOK HOW PRETTY! But they were all packed away in a box where I couldn’t get to them.”
I also slammed my middle finger in the door of a 2010 Camaro leaving it multicolored and without feeling except for searing throbbing pain.
I’ve finally learned how to type without it. *phew* I’ll have to tell you all about the Camaro, and my finger, however we’re still currently in mourning over the fact that we had to give the Camaro back.
In the meantime. What’s going on with you? Anything new? I’d really like to know. Unless it involves a hotel. Then just lie to me.