Yeah, this image really grosses me out. But there you go... Spaghetti pants.
Punchline first, then joke.
My sister: Do you want to come over and get a pizza and watch tv?
Me: no, I'm anxious and I wouldn't be comfortable. I just want to be at home where I can do my stuff.
My sister: Ok. I hope you get the ants out of your pants.
Me: Imma put these ants in YOUR pants.
My sister: Ok!
My sister: Pants!
My sister: Spaghetti!
Me: You're spaghetti pants!
My sister: I like that one.
So, clearly I have been shirking my responsibilities with this blog. Meanwhile I have been focusing on tumblr, which requires less typing. And before you think about how LAZY that is, think about tendonitis. I think it's been exacerbated by packing and moving big boxes of books.
Mr. Cereal and I are planning on cohabitation. In a deconsecrated church. In upstate New York. When I put it like that it sounds an awful lot like squatting. But it's not. The place we're going to live is really beautiful, and I will have enough room to DO things, like making things, and organizing things. I'm really excited.
I am less excited about all the moving and the packing. I love my books. They seem to love me a lot less. Unless they are into sadism, in which case they are showing their love the only way they know how.
This is my bad time of year. This is the time of year where I want to hole up and do nothing but hibernate. So having to DO THINGS like organize, pack, look for a new job, look for a new car, organize a car loan, be pleasant, leave the house, all of it is draining and daunting, and TIRING. I'm freaking exhausted all the time.
But not too tired to call my awesome sister spaghetti pants.
