...and i have even less time today

so does that mean my post will be even longer?
yeah, probably.
cuz my theory is: the more i have to do, the more i get done.
or at least, the more i have to do, the more unimportant stuff i get done...

damn.
so last night my husband decides it's time to rearrange our bedroom.
fortunately he did most of the work, but i was still freaking exhausted after.
does anyone know how hard it is to dismantle a king sized bed and wrestle it around??
well, for me--not so easy.
but it was cool.
and now we both hate how the room looks, so that's a plus.
heh.
there are some improvements, but it's a HUGE room, and now the bed is against a wall, so i have to go on a frigging trek just to get into it.
or out of it.
and lord knows i am too lazy to deal with that shit.
AND the tv is at a weird angle so i have to twist....
so we'll probably fuck with it again later.
blah.
and of course, the husband deserves a big round of applause because he cleaned the bathrooms for me.
cuz he knows how much i hate bathroom cleaning.

so.
it's cold and grey today.
just like my feet.
minus the "grey" part.

i keep wondering why i'm hearing birds sing.
they sound so fresh and happy.
...it's just the Bob the Builder website.
but they're pissing me off.

you know...
i keep forgetting to ask you--
and it's important stuff, so i don't know how i forgot.
Neil Diamond: yay or nay?
okay, i've actually covered this before...
but i never bothered to ask how you folks feel about him.
me, i have issues.
let's say there are extenuating circumstances.
and, for the record, i am so unfamiliar with John Denver as to have been called a traitor to our country...
this could not possibly be my fault.
it's how i was raised.
in fact, that reminds me...
my friend's (fantastically hippie) parents had Seargant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club, LP.
and great was the day when we figured out how to record it onto a tape.
i was thrilled to head home with my own copy of it.
i listened and listened and listened.
then J. informed me that most of their songs were about drugs.
talk about a buzz kill.
(yes, i used that term for its irony--i am cool.)
this little 8 year old mormon freak would not listen to it anymore.
baaaaaaaaaaaaah.
it's okay, i don't regret being raised like that.
it has given me my set of issues--cuz, we all have ours, and where would i be with no issues???

okay, well.
on that note, i guess i'll head off into the world, with a basket in the crook of my arm and beautiful red hooded cape...
um, no.
that's not me.
but i might put a new song list on my mp3 player, and strap it onto the crook of my arm...and i don't wear red much so....fuck this.

have a good day.
or i'll kick your ass.