I'm sort of bouncing around, mentally right now. I have roughly two more pages to go on this paper. Which I'm not loving and I'm sure doesn't really make sense because I keep repeating myself endlessly.
But I'm 3 pages down, 2 more to go on this topic. With another 2 topics to go.
What I'd rather do is page through the trashy mags (US Weekly, OK etc) that I bought or read a book or watch the Tick and knit. But I feel guilty.
I hate guilt.
Guilt stinks. Read trashy magazines.
Happy Birthday, DJ. I read too many things in threadsuck and must have missed the announce.
I read magazines with no content and pictures of people wearing strange things.
I have sunburn. Or maybe windburn. Sunburn yesterday, still waiting on today. But I got to see an electric power plant! Ok, just me that found that interesting.
I'm Sneezy. Plague girl. I'm aspiring to be rudolph. I'm probably going to be all well for work on tuesday. Kinda wrong.
I like lazy slow meanderings and people and creature watching. Birds are neat.
Oh! There are some sights that should never be witnessed. Like those involving men in skimpy red speedos. My eyes! This was your PSA for the day.
But everyone should see a red golf cart tricked out with gold rims, whitewalls, a white leather interior and a gold flying angel mounted on the front. It's an experience no one should miss.
Daisy Jane! Happy BIRTHDAY!
Sarameg's post is almost like a prose poem. For those who are sleepy!
I edited. To add content.
Happy b-day, DJ.
Happy birthday, Daisy! You deserve good treats.
Allyson, my dog & cat sitter must be taking lessons from your neighbor. We left for two days over Thanksgiving and she "forgot" to show up at our house. We figured it out when we got back--the hard way.
Yikes! That's no good. Are the animals all OK?
Happy birthday, Daisy Jane!