9:05 AM, bitches.
That's the time I was sitting at this here desk, all fresh and clean and just waiting to bring the productivity.
Productivity in the sense of checking Facebook and emailing Koos, but still. Look how pretty I look! And I am wearing jeans again! (My scheduled appointment this morning was canceled late yesterday afternoon. Hello, Day 1!)
And you know what? It's 12 PM now, and I have been more productive today. I went to Wawa for a breakfast sandwich, and didn't look like something that got caught in a drain. I even - on a whim - stopped into the cobbler's, and picked up the hot black shoes I left there in JULY. (And are now, sadly, out of season. Procrastination hurts, guys.)
I made phone calls. And returned old emails. And cleaned out my inbox. From 195 to 55, in just an hour! These are achievements. Baby steps. One thing at a time.
Throughout all of this, the television has remained largely off. Last night, feeling empowered, I dashed to the grocery store, determined to make my husband a surprise dinner. And he came home with surprise flowers for moi, because he is lovely. Coincidence? We are obviously psychically connected. (Also? I think he felt sorry for me. Yesterday I blogged about showering. And the monumental task it was. And he was probably all: Aww. Let's get it together, shall we?)
2 comments:
Maybe he bought the flowers to cover up the stinky laundry smell in your bedroom... j/k.
He is a great husband!
I hate grooming myself as well and glad I am not the only one. I mean, I can't complain to people that I don't feel like brushing my teeth and washing my face when I finally crawl into bed at 11:30 at night. They would think I am a dirtball. I guess I am, but I am an honest dirtball. And I always end up brushing my teeth, or I get a vision of all of the sugar I ate that day eating through my tooth enamel. The face washing... let's just say I have lots of waterproof mascara stains on my pillowcase.
I am glad I am not alone; but you are still better than me, as you have two babies. I don't even have one baby, and still there is little in the way of teeth brushing going on. Though, I guess let's call a spade a spade: we are both really gross. But lovable!
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