Not even fifteen minutes laterHere's your morning music video. Now, what in the heck was the plan again? Oh yes, eat well, sleep well, run well and STAY BUSY, Bridget.
I'm still walking down the street,
When I saw a shadow of a man creep out of sight.
Then he walks up from behind
And puts a gun up to my head,
He made it clear he wasn't looking for a fight.
He said "Give me all you've got
I want your money not your life,
But if you try to make a move I won't think twice."
Pfft. Fine, Henry wants me to make him an explorer/treehouse bag out of his old camouflage shorts that are too small. I also have to mend Ruthie's quilt. And a billion other things I'm about to put off while I wait out some bigger anxiety-causing issues. I'm learning very slowly I can do this and it's not a bad thing. Mostly. Or is it? I don't know for sure.
It's days like this I think I really should be medicated to remove the edge, calm me down, bliss me out just a little bit.
But I can't do that, so onward and upward we go.
There is no fake cheese either so my whole day is screwed. I like fake cheese in my grilled sandwiches, not slices of actual, real cheese. It's just too Heidi. If I do that I may as well add a big glass of goat's milk and then braid my hair to keep it out of my face while I'm sewing.
Well, crap. I just described my actual morning. Now you know how thrilling life can be here at the formerly-Reilly household now ruled by the dark emo one. Which is...me. Hahahaha.
P.S. I'll share this morning's email round robin if you're as morbid as I am. Don't email me if you're not. Describe three ways the person in the list below you will die. Here are mine as imagined by Christian:
#1 Scientists discover lip gloss causes cancer.
#2 Drowning via excessive pomegranate ice tea ingestion, aka teaboarding.
#3 Like that girl in Goldfinger, except instead of paint she'll be covered with tattoos.