I need my husband and I need him now. Without him here everyday I tend to do neurotic things, like rearrange the picture frames on the wall every other day or spend $600 once a week on clothes or even vacuum twice a day. Who am I kidding, I'd vacuum twice a day even if he were here. But, I do do things (ha, I said do-do) that are borderline certifiable without my boo-ski by my side. Perhaps the things I'm most notorious for doing is eating like complete shit. I don't cook, I just don't. But don't feel too bad for my hubby because I clean like I've got OCD so at least he's got that. But cooking? Not so much. I struggle to cook when the five of us are under one roof and I struggle to cook when it's just the two of us, therefore, I DO NOT STRUGGLE when it's just me. Instead, I simply do.not.cook.
So it was no surprise when I decided to run to Publix to grab a little somethin' somethin' for din-din. I grabbed a box of fish sticks and donuts. No, you didn't misread that last sentence. Then I headed to the cashier. Twelve dollars and five minutes later I was excited to be heading back home to chow down.
So I'm sitting on my kitchen counter (that's where the majority of my meals get eaten - sitting Indian-style on my counter in the kitchen while watching the living room television) when the show I'm watching breaks for one of those little thirty second commercials they have on Hulu. Apparently I'm terrified of being alone with my thoughts so I reached for the closest thing to me so that I could read and waste thirty seconds until my show came back on. It was my wine bottle. Yes, I washed down my super healthy dinner with a big ass glass of red. I spin the bottle around and read the label as I take a bite of my sprinkle-covered donut: 'Fat bastard,' it read. Touche' wine gods. Touche'.
Did I mention that I need my husband. Like, NOW!
Xo,
Lor
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment