Today I did nothing. By nothing I mean I ate a whole very rich and decadent chocolate cupcake (with real, big, dark, chocolate, chips in it), read some more of this mediocre book that I am going to finish, and...I think that's it. No - wait, I also signed my MLNP pin thing (I will owe the macho loan hermanos thousands of dollars after I graduate), and read Joy the Baker's blog, maybe drooled over some dark chocolate brownies I am not going to make. And left a depressed message on a couple machines of the above title's variety, AND started The Canterbury Tales (which I am going to read in attempt of moral support for my sister's AP English class. And because as an English major I'm pretty sure I should have read some of good ole boy Chaucer by now....).
I know (just what I was thinking) - I don't even have time for a job (especially with my incredibly impressive number output of a certain conjunction), even if, due to a continued state of self-inflicted inadequacy/misery/"I have nothing new to say" writer's angst, I have not opened one word document, not even to scroll through and "edit." So pathetic, feel very sorry for me.
Not that the day is over. It is not over. I haven't watched 7 episodes of Weeds, conveniently available instantly via my family's Netflix account in a continuous, never-have-to-get-up, have-dreams-I-am-a-suburban-housewife-drug-dealer fashion. Plus I have not cleaned the house. And I am going to clean the house. And, let's face it, when you give a girl a chocolate muffin, chances are, she's gunna want a dark chocolate brownie to go with it.
ABOVE PHOTO: son-of-a-no-good-cheating-piece-of-a-chocolate-chip
