I exercised this morning. Exhausting. For anyone else who might want to follow suit, I used three and five pound hand weights. I know. No wonder my arms are shaky. (I can barely keep the powder doughnut dust from getting all over me.) But don't try to keep up with me~remember~I'm an overachiever. Can't help myself. It's my circle of life.
I've been to the fabric store twice in 24 hours, purchasing well over what was necessary (hundreds) and keep looking at the bags sitting on the sewing room floor wondering what's inside. Two things are apparent here: One, I'm anxiously engaged. Two, the purchases must have been crucial.
Sassy (our stuck-up cat) is unaccepting of the sad truth regarding the fish being "re-gifted" to their original buyer. She jumps up to the empty counter, hoping they still live there but finds it as empty as Lady Gaga's soul. Snotty kitty tears drip and fall off her whiskers as she lifts a hind leg to clean herself~not unlike Lady Gaga, once again. It's something to see. Or not. Ew.
Remember those eyelashes that went missing? Well, I found them. Implanted in my legs from the knee down. Thousands and thousands of them, probably from over the years. But I think they've lived a hard life. Like, after their initial fall from grace...or my eyelids...they turned hard and coarse~kind of like a prostitute. Little street-walker stubble, wearing sequin halter tops and fishnet, poking out of my pantyhose mesh. I tried to make it work, for like, a month...(or more.) But the more I waited, the darker and more whiskery they became. (I think they were transgender) Plus, it's time for a pedicure and I will NOT have those hair-hores (I spelled it wrong so it wouldn't seem so offensive) speaking for me.
The fog told me to go back to bed. I protested, but it took me by the nape of my neck and told me not to get out until well past noon. I'm kind of afraid of fog...it's hard to read. Can't really tell what it's thinking, as it's not very transparent.
I'm going to obey fog now. See you at 12:15.