I've missed you since I've been out to lunch. And I don't mean in a turkey-sandwich-on-wheat-hold-the-mayo-in-between-phone-calls-because-the-crazy-doesn't-stop kind of way.
No I mean I've been running on auto-pilot for this entire month and I miss
A typical day for Corey 'n me starts with a nice walk with the dog, some breakfast, a little work in the office, dinner at home, felting for me, a ball game for him and then Matlock for dessert. Nice. Easy.
But recently my day looks like this:
- walk dog
- pack bag of running clothes
- pack bag of wool and jewelry supplies
- pack bag of breakfast, lunch and dinner
- run out of house without brushing teeth
- think about blogging
- get interrupted by homeless people
- time to go home!
- no it's not
- (paper) towel off in office bathroom
- sit in office: watch TV on Internet
- sit in office: felt
- sit in office: eat dinner
- 7pm, now it's time to go home
- rehearsal for murder mystery
- pretend to smoke Virginia Slims
- murder someone (or do I??)
- 11pm, pass out with glasses on
After so many weeks of this my brain gets tired. It forgets things or refuses to function altogether.
Ok, so not entirely altogether. I am technically still alive. But my brain has missed a few crucial things. Like blogging. And zipping up my snow pants before heading out this morning.
14 degree draft = crucial.
So, in closing I hope you will take the following as a most heartfelt apology for my abscess:
"Corey, I hate the smell of your hair gel"
"What does it smell like??"
"Like sweet spit; it grosses me out."
"You do realize there isn't any spit in it, right?"