I feel miserable right now after three measly hours of sleep. I’m cold, I’m crabby, my brain is stuffed with cotton balls, my knees are killing me and I’m too damn tired to EAT. Something’s seriously wrong with me when I’m too tired to eat. To tell you the truth, all I really want to do is collapse on the chaise in the family room with my faux mink blanket (his name is Mister Furry) EXCEPT we’re expecting our biweekly Schwan’s delivery this morning at 11:30, Sam is out running errands and I have to stay awake long enough to answer the door and shove our chicken thingies and mozzarella sticks in the freezer.
In case you’re wondering, yes, this is a rather small Schwan’s delivery for us. Sam and I are trying to eat our old frozen crap before investing in new frozen crap — with an occasional exception, as illustrated above — and so far we’re making fine progress! We’ve discovered tamales, a bag of onion rings, lots of broccoli, an unopened box of bagel dogs, meatballs from 2008 and mystery potatoes.
Please send an email as soon as possible if you’d like to come for lunch. Thank you.
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