1. I am a non-discriminate hater of cats. I hate all cats...your cats. Kittens, even. If you own one, I might feel inclined to kick it when you aren't looking, or stick tape to the bottom of it's grotesque paws.
2. I do not cuddle. In fact, I have all the snugglability of a cold, wet sock. I treat hugs like the human straightjackets that they are, and burst out of them TOWARDS FREEDOM AND PERSONAL SPACE. If I have to elbow you furiously in the ribs, so help me, I will.
3. Every once in a great while, I eat soup in the shower. (All the time)
4. I'm married. You can't date me anyway.
5. I hate the number five.
*Edit: I wouldn't actually do either of those things to a cat. At worst, I would perhaps taunt it with a smelt.
I found a spot of time to read today, in between being HORRIBLY SICK and holding a baby. When I took Landon to preschool this morning, I looked like a frazzled, pasty old bear. I could hardly force myself out of bed, into a somewhat suitable outfit, and out into the real world. I'm not sure if any of the teachers were especially sure about who I was, as I was lacking usual makeup and sociability. I don't remember what I said to anybody, but I do recall many "what in the hell is she talking about" facial expressions being shot in my direction. I came home, fed Nora, took some cold pills, snuggled up with a book and fell asleep after only five pages. I shall never get to the end of any book! Not even the middle! I WILL NEVER GET PAST THE PROLOGUE! Damn it all.
Once home, Landon requested that we play Guess Who. He said, "I don't need to guess actually, because I know all the things."
All the things, indeed.
Nora is crawling/sweeping the floor with her tummy, and I'm upset about the amount of things I have to put away now. Did I want to find a permanent residence for my immense collection of shoes, gathering by the door? No, no I did not. We have no storage, and but one closet.
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