I woke to my husband singing a perversion of a Guns n Roses song. Instead of whatever the words were supposed to be, he was inserting lyrics praising my breasts.
My dog is now perched on my lap, having dashed to me for protection when my taller half opened the door to the laundry room. That's where she gets her baths, so the grease beast hates that room.
Pipes do not unfreeze themselves. Time to call someone to do it. Halfhearted prayer is not the key to fluid flow. Even if you thank the Lord in advance for "the moisture [you] might receive" upon thaw.
No matter the season, I demand to sleep with the overhead fan on. Something to do with the ambient noise the kasheesties in my head are fond of.
I drank the last of the soy milk yesterday, forgot to get more at the store last night, so cereal doesn't look like an option unless I want to add the cow's milk I purchased for my husband. I would prefer the soy milk, but I want the weird generic cereal something awful. Or maybe I want a wheat English muffin sandwich with egg whites, feta and salsa. Or maybe a grapefruit. Or maybe a whole lot of string cheese. Or maybe Egg in Basket. Or maybe . . .
Why the breasts song? (My man would argue that there doesn't ever need to be a reason.) I made a deal with The Husband that if he would be cool about my upping the downstairs thermostat to 82 degrees, I would sleep naked (which I find incredibly uncomfortable). Of course he thought that was a great idea, as it's that much easier to get in my pants when I'm not wearing any.
Why the heat so high? Well, it was part of my wishful strategy for The Great Thaw. However, I wussed out in the middle of the night and turned it back down to 68 where it belongs. Wasn't going to work anyhow, and I was pretty sure of that to begin with.
P.S. A confession: I tried. I'm still trying. But I really wanted it. And it was only $20 with shipping. And it was in my size. Do you know how hard it is to find these without needing to have them sized?
I'm a failure. I need online shopping rehabilitation.