Sometimes all I want in the world is a day off.
And then I get one and I'm like fuck this is really fucking boring!
And then I go to work and sit in a booth eating a brownie sundae for an hour.
Ridiculous.
Anyway, that has been my day so far. I picked up a beach mat for the kitchen floor today and Breakfast won't stop dragging it around and ripping it up. So I am resisting every urge to pick him up and fling him into a wall, or off the balcony, or to drown him in the bathtub...
I have nothing of merit to say.
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