If you're ever looking for a way to waste time

make sure you check out we heart it site. Seriously.

I've probably clicked around for a half hour today, good hour yesterday. Loving it.

Thanks Dad!

So I have a hook, well it's actually a double hook, in my bathroom for towels and my bathrobe. I don't have a fan in my bathroom and it obviously gets pretty steamy and damp from showers, etc. The hook recently fell out and my Dad just had the most ingenious idea ever. Break off a piece of toothpick the length of the hole in the wall, put it in there and then put the hook back in. A little hammering later and voile! I have a hook that's staying in the wall!

Well for now, but that's all that matters at the moment!

Oh

and tomorrow is trash day and I don't want to put out the trash. Or the recycling.

Where is my man that will do all this for me?

Is it bad that one of the major reasons I want a man in my life is to help with the household chores, i.e. bringing out the trash, carrying in the groceries (although it's much better now that I'm not on the third floor with the steepest stairs known to man), cleaning the house, doing the dishes. Ugh I could go on and on.

Not to mention how nice it would be to fall asleep next to someone each night. No offense LaLa, you're a little to small to snuggle sufficiently with:

I'm in one of those moods- can you tell?

Motivation LACKING in the Nation

I'm in a whining mood.

Warning.

I have two huge piles of correcting.

I don't know what the eff I'm doing in class tomorrow.

I'm tired.

I just want to go to bed.

But I can't.

Maybe if I went off facebook and stopped typing this blog post and actually got to work I'd feel a little less overwhelmed and get some shit done.

Going.

Gone.

So not on the ball this weekend.

Just a warning, this post may be all over the place and it may lead you to believe that I'm a few cards short of a full deck. Some of you may have already been under that assumption, so no biggie there.

So. I've been trying to eat healthy and work out more, avoid bad foods- more salads and meals for one.* A bad habit I got into was stopping at Taco Bell or McDonald's on the way home from a night out. Not only do I think it's a habit I shouldn't have formed, but I'm starting to think the Universe agrees with me, that I should not eat McDonald's after a night out.

I also should mention that I'm not a religious person by any means. I go with my fam occasionally to our Congregational church, Christmas, when my brother Andrew is in a play or something, or when my sister Erin is singing or something. But God isn't something that I consider in my life. I'm questioning this now though.

So it started when a few months ago, let's see, what night out did this incident follow...I have no idea. Well, in any case, after a night out I decided to stop at McDonald's which is unfortunately right down the street to my house. Well, the truck in front of me was apparently asked to pull forward to wait for their order. Except he didn't pull forward enough. I pull up, get my food, try to pull out but don't quite fit. I have to do one of those embarrassing 78 point turns to get out of line. Except I probably should have made it an 80 point turn because 78 didn't cut it, and I hit his truck. He gets out, looks at the damage and gets back into his car. He then pulls up. I drive around and pull up next to the passenger side of the truck. His female companion looks at me and I like shrug my shoulders and she's kind of like "I don't know?" so I realize, I need to take this opportunity and get the eff out of there, since I had been drinking that evening- no need to make an already ridiculous situation worse. I get home, sit down to eat. They gave me effing cheeseburgers. I hate cheeseburgers. Serves me right.

Ok so fast-forward to summer. I had finally got a pedicure. I believe it was a Saturday I did all this. I could totally be wrong. Maybe it was a Friday, who knows, doesn't matter. So I get a pedicure. Go out. Decide MickyD's is a good idea. No situation arose actually at McDonald's but when I got home and settled in in front of the TV on my leather ottoman/coffee table set-up, I went to slide my feet under the ottoman for whatever reason and slit. my. toenail. down. the. center. Halfway down the nail. Blood everywhere. Hurt like a mother effer. And more importantly, ruined my pedicure. Strike two Ronald.

Now for the odd occurrence (I totally almost forgot about this one!) So in August, I decided I wanted Chicken, Broccoli and Ziti from Riccardi's. It's amazing. I recommend it, well when the Universe isn't plotting your demise I recommend it. So I ran out to grab my food, came home, ready to eat, notice LaLa chewed through my computer cord that charges my computer. It's the end of the summer, I'm poor and cannot afford to buy a new $80 cord until school starts. I didn't talk to that biatch for three days. Universe? Angry dog? You decide.

Ok, so I went all that time without McDonald's and even Riccardi's because I'm getting nervous something crazy is going on here! Fast forward to last Friday night. Meeting up with the old co-worker group, wicked excited about it. It's been a rough start of the year- just a lot of work, late nights planning, early morning photocopying, etc. So I was psyched to see them. I was planning on not drinking but some new co-workers invited me out for a drink after work which I had to go to, have to make an effort with the new co-workers! There goes that idea. Three V and T's later, I head home for dinner. Heat up my meal for one, have a drink at home and get ready for the game at my old school.

I wear a new top from J.Crew that I bought:

A yellow cardigan:

And a scarf:

And sweatshirt/jacket because it's cold. Can't find a picture of this but it's like a blazer, but made out of dark gray sweatshirt material. So get to old school, see some students, old co-workers, good times. Head to my friend Ross' house for a drink before we meet the rest of our coworkers at Flaunt. I think I have two drinks at Ross' house. We go to Flaunt. I have I think one maybe two more drinks. End up outside for some reason where I see this kid Kyle I know. Talk with him for a while. I think co-workers left, I stayed and talked with Kyle (this could be wrong, feel free to correct me if you actually know what happened.) So I left. Went home. Stopped at McDonald's.

I should've known better.

I get home, eat my food and go to bed. The next morning I wake up for work, shower and get ready. I come downstairs and find my McDonald's cup on my desk near my computer with the empty bag. Inside my McDonald's cup is a metal fork. Hm. I bring the bag into the kitchen to throw away and put the cup in the sink and notice my pocketbook (empty), scarf and wallet on my stove. Hm. I put my wallet back into my bag only to notice that my iPod and camera and stuff aren't in my bag. Hm. Discover them strewn about on my front seat. Interesting.

Get ready for work at leave the house. I attended a friend's wedding that night and was looking for the sweatshirt/jacket to wear. Hm. No where to be found. I go upstairs, my jeans and flip flops are on the floor in the bathroom, not unusual after a night of drinking. My top and cardigan are in my second bedroom on the ironing board, again, not unusual but no sweatshirt/jacket.

Fast forward to today- the sweatshirt/jacket still hasn't surfaced. It's missing. I confirmed with Ross and with Kyle that I did in fact have the jacket on when he left (Ross) and when he walked me to my car (Kyle) so I should indeed have my jacket. Except I don't.

My conclusion is the Universe is fucking with me. What do you think?

*see previous post about Target trying to get me down on my single status.

Um hm.

So I just went to the bathroom for the first time today (TMI, I know, but whatev) and noticed that I put my underwear on inside out.

They were def clean, so none of that weird inside-out business to lessen laundry.

It wasn't a rushed morning by any means.

Odd.

Meals for One

I am devoted to Target. I go at least three times a week. If I'm in a bad mood, stressed or just eh about something, going to Target soothes me. That may make me weird. I don't care.

So while shopping at Target in the frozen food section, I picked up some Lean Cuisines and Smart Ones for lunch and dinner. I noticed that the aisle is called the "Meals for One" aisle. I find that offensive. Yes, I am alone. Yes, I am buying this single serving meal for myself, but do I want to be reminded of my loneliness while perusing my normally calming aisles of Target? Negative.

Anyway I made some great purchases and look forward to my easy to prepare and consume meals. Fast forward to my crazyass day yesterday.

School was slightly overwhelming- lesson planning, being up to 12:30 the night before prepping and planning, etc. Then I had my first grad class of the semester at Bridgewater. I was looking forward to it as I love this professor but know it's probably going to be a lot of work, but I love taking classes and listening to lectures. So I get there and am settling into the class, and the professor hands out the syllabus.

Um, hold the phone. We're all teachers here getting our MAT (Masters in Teaching), no? We all have full time jobs, no? And in some instances families to tend to? How are we going to read 300+ pages a week, write 4 page papers weekly, a 15 page term paper and in addition to the SEVEN textbooks read an EIGHTH book and write a book review that could be published in a scholarly journal.

I wanted to jump out the window.

I foresee a nervous breakdown because of work alone this semester, I'm going to have to be committed to an institution if I take this course this fall. I decided I have to drop it. There's no effing way I can do it all. **STRESSSS**

I decide to stop by the gym, run a little bit, go tanning (ah! bad! I know....I needed a vitamin d boost....shame), watch the Pats play and talk to Josh for a little bit. I get home put my meal for one in the microwave and jumped in the shower quick. Get out, put on comfy sweats and go back downstairs for my dinner.

I'm walking through the dining room with my piping hot meal for one, ready to sit at my computer, catch up with my Google Reader and facebook then head to bed. I bump my arm on the doorway and pretty much wind up and pitch my meal for one into the hardwood floor of my living room.

What. The. Fuck.