And the award goes to...
I'd like to thank:
- the guy that decided to turn left from the middle lane,
- the power-that-be that had mood swings powerful enough to supply North Texas with energy for the rest of the week,
- and my ovaries, who decided to kick it in high gear five days early.*
It really wasn't *that* bad, and it's getting much better now that my fuzzy slippers are on. Most women have a shoe fetish - pumps, stilettos, and boots. I have a raging slipper fetish - pink cow, Marvin the Martian, Elmo, ballet Isotoners, and vacuum-the-house-then-go-buy-a-1/5th-of-Jack-Daniels style. You know the ones I'm talking about. And don't get me started on the mountains of flip-flops in the closet.
It's the slippers that make all the difference in the world. Had a bad day? Put on some slippers and get cozy. Had a good day? Put on some slippers and celebrate. Feeling a little goofy? Put on your cartoon slippers and go to the bar. Need a change? Buy a new pair of slippers. It's like crack (without the gaptooth/skin and bones side effect).
There could be worse escapism techniques, but man-oh-man I can't think of a better one. And now if you'll excuse me, Elmo needs a drink.
*Better early than late, though. And better late than never. Or something like that.
picked from the vine by sv @ 7:26 PM
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