We could all use some PANTS in our life. Operation emaciation continues around here, as Mr. H bravely staves off Snapple, and I retain no interest in eating most foods, especially if they require opening or preparing. Except last night, Mr. H made pizza, and I had to make an exception.
I am hoping the rest of this existentialism shoves off soon enough, and then my pants won’t be so saggy. I could just buy smaller pants, but that costs money, and we also need to hoard that, because we have a loft worth 75k less than we paid for it. Surely we can make this amount up in no time by making pizza at home instead of ordering out. I would like to discuss this with Barack Obama and maybe Yoda.
But by the end of this month, sunset will be pushed back all the way until 4:56 PM, and surely that will be cause for frolic in the streets. I’m holding out for March 13, when sunset careens ahead to 6:47 PM! I won’t be able to handle myself. If only Lambchop and I could schedule another relaxing weekend to dunk ourselves in Key West right after that. I’ll always fondly remember The Weekend Without Rage: 2009. Also known as The Only Weekend of My Life Without Rage.
I am going to Florida in a few weeks, but my whole family is also going, minus my dad, who is 2 kool 2 grope. Hey, when they grope you, do they bother to look in your mouth like prison? Just wondering. Â At any rate, I predict not necessarily rage, but chaos, and possibly the renting of a mini van. I’m going back to bed now.