Last night, I had a disturbing realization. There I was, sitting in my apartment - clad in bright orange Illini yoga pants and a tee, and it suddenly dawned on me.
I was sitting on the couch doing some handstitching on a craft, in glasses, with my dog, surrounded by dog-eared holiday catalogs, and corned beef (of all things) was in the crockpot. I also had my hair pulled back, argyle socks on, and I'm rocking a wildly sexy infection in my left eye. It looks like someone took a needle full of fruit punch kool-aid and injected it into my lashline. I was breathing heavily after having done a victory dance in my living room to celebrate Helio Castroneves' win on Dancing with the Stars (including a completely silent but almost painful double arm-in-the-air pump when the winner was announced) On the weirdo scale of 1 to 10, it was a 50.
Turns out, I'm just a 45 year old, single cat lady stuck in a different body.
I was sitting on the couch doing some handstitching on a craft, in glasses, with my dog, surrounded by dog-eared holiday catalogs, and corned beef (of all things) was in the crockpot. I also had my hair pulled back, argyle socks on, and I'm rocking a wildly sexy infection in my left eye. It looks like someone took a needle full of fruit punch kool-aid and injected it into my lashline. I was breathing heavily after having done a victory dance in my living room to celebrate Helio Castroneves' win on Dancing with the Stars (including a completely silent but almost painful double arm-in-the-air pump when the winner was announced) On the weirdo scale of 1 to 10, it was a 50.
Turns out, I'm just a 45 year old, single cat lady stuck in a different body.
<< Home