Drinking coffee when I should be drinking water. Writing when I should be cleaning or something. Shoulda shoulda shoulda.
Instead I'm on 4 hours of sleep, and I'm lazy and spacy and write/erasey and I feel super.
It's the U.S.'s 236 birthday, and I forgot to get it anything. I'm so embarrassed. But I'll still try and make the party.
Wow, i got completely side tracked looking for Florence + the Machine tickets. Clearly I'm dedicated to this task today. After missing Marilyn Manson, and the regret over that which still plagues me today, I've decided that I'll see whatever show I want to dammit!
After a bevy of torturous treatments, from the cruel and unusual Epilady, to the agonizing slowness of the single hair tweeze, to going tempting nesting birds to roost by going au natural, I have finally taken the big plunge and had my first Brazilian wax. And I feel fine. Now we can take our trip to the beach, and I can live easy, without fear of weary seagulls. Also good for my husband who has been living with Snatchsquatch for longer than I'll admit to.

Indi is in the bath again, swimming with her small plastic zoo animals. I'm sitting on the toilet(lid) beside her, and after a short tutorial on how to wash your own butt, I am writing, and I am inspired. I feel free to write whatever I want here. I have told no one about this blog, and I will tell no one about this blog. No comment solicitation for me. I don't even want to let Forrest read it. Something about the words I write is so personal, even if it isn't serious. It's like someone is reading my thoughts, and I like to keep that stuff guarded. I don't even like for people to read their own greeting card messages in front of me.

Look, this just isn't working out. It's not you, it's me...