Ahoy, there, maties!! Pirate speak. It's awesome. If you're wondering why I come up with lame ways to start every post, this is why: I feel like it's rude not to say hello. If you're taking the time to read my blog, you deserve a greeting of some sort, right? And... I feel like it's boring to just say, "hello," or, "hey guys," every single day. Maybe I'm a weirdo, but I like variety.
Anyway, I see this "It's okay" thing on Whitney's bloga lot, and today I'm having one of those days. I figured, hey, why don't I make it "okay" to have a crappy day and a ton to complain about by writing it off as an "It's okay" post? Genius. Before I begin, I would like to point out that that may or may not be what I am doing with this post, so read at your own risk.
that I wanted to punch a 16-year-old in the face today. Actually, make that two. I wanted to punch two 16-year-olds in the face. The picture below is what they would have seen if I didn't have such awesome self-control. And if there was no such thing as prison. Disregard the incredibly threatening old lady curtains, please.
that I am tempted to eat my arm because I'm so hungry. Didn't get anything to eat today. Don't know why I'm sitting at my computer instead of standing over the stove. Oh, wait, yes I do...
that I hate cooking and think that it's stupid that it's the "woman's" job. Let's be honest here. My husband does a lot of the cooking around here because, quite honestly, I'm a crappy housewife. I hate the kitchen. And I hate making sandwiches.
that I miss being in the United States where it's socially acceptable to drive half a block instead of walk it. Not that I have a car here, but if I did and I did that, people would think I was on crack.
that I came home and went straight for the chocolate. Now, normally, I'm not a chocolate eater. Today was a chocolate day. That should tell you one of two things. It was either a) a super crappy day, or b) our kitchen is out of food and I was too lazy to go grocery shopping, and chocolate was the only thing that was easily accessible and edible. Unless you count paper, but I'm not five years old anymore.
that I ate paper when I was five years old. I had to address the issue. Don't worry, it didn't damage me at all. And... I'm sure that I looked at least as cute as that little monster when I was eating it, which makes it okay.