Thank goodness for moms who borrow your apartment and leave large bags of potato chips in your cupboard. Am i right?! Y'know, when you're falling in love with James McEvoy on TV 'cause your husband is outta town? And you need to eat your feelings? We've all been there. Right?
Just re-watched Penelope (so good) while devouring next day pizza and half a bottle of wine. It's times like these, especially after the day I've had, that I could use my fuzzy husband. But potato chips are a close second.
Brunch tomorrow with my girls, and then a full week of productivity (hopefully)! I just hope I can drag myself out of my "what's my place in this world" slump (I'm waxing existential).
I still haven't had the heart to check my camera today, after I (probably) ruined it after dousing it in a bottle of air-freshener. Purse-content-fail. It's just too depressing to fathom at this point. Luckily, I think that my seriously expensive lens is OK. Egad! What a week!
I still haven't had the heart to check my camera today, after I (probably) ruined it after dousing it in a bottle of air-freshener. Purse-content-fail. It's just too depressing to fathom at this point. Luckily, I think that my seriously expensive lens is OK. Egad! What a week!
On the bright side, Alex and I had an hour Skype-fest tonight and he actually had a working webcam. I got a little verklempt when I saw his face. He noticed. I hoped that crappy-web-cam pixelation would cover my teary-ness. Not so.
Off to bed now. Will substitute dog-snuggling for the human variety. Poor things. G'night! XO
(There is literally no point whatsoever in writing this blog. Self-pity? Narcissism? I guess that's what blogs are for anyway, right?)
the best thing to understand is that good readers like entries like this the best, where it's just you, really you, saying what's what
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