It’s been one of those rare days when the post-5:00 hours have done a number on me, actually making me wish I was back at work. Nothing serious or anything like that, just annoyances. One such annoyance would be Nomar. Specifically him freaking out while I was holding him and using my inner arm as his personal launch pad. He also took the liberty of relieving me of some of that pesky arm skin I have. Thanks, Nomar, I was getting so tired of having all that skin in the crook of my arm!
Also, how many times will I purchase bread at Trader Joes before I finally remember that it always, always gets moldy after about 36 hours?
Or why is it that Troy must never be out-down by his brother? He presented at my feet his very own cat vomit. A token of his unwavering love and undying affection, no doubt.
I’m of the mind that the very last of my Reeses stash is in order. Only to get it I must traverse into the kitchen and who knows what fresh hell awaits me at the hands of my feline friends… Wish me luck!
**Empire Records reference, anyone?
a reese's stash - genius!
ReplyDeletefeel ya on the trader joe's bread. i always put in the refrigerator if i get some because i can't eat that much bread in 36 hours.
hope your arm skin grows back real quick-like.
Mmm Reese's stash? Yes please!
ReplyDeleteI just came across your blog, and am now a follower. Woohoo! I read the title in my best Lucas voice and thought, "she HAS to be quoting Empire Records" I then finished the post and saw the fine print at the bottom. You just got yourself a new follower my friend :)
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