Sunday, March 8

Spring Forward

Minus one measly hour of sleep from my regular Sunday hibernation and you might as well plop The Sims on my lap and hook me up to an IV for the day. No visit to the zoo, no gym, can't even be bothered to catch up on Ashton's twitterings. Laundry, what laundry? Pth. Tell it to talk to the defrosted turkey that's sitting in the fridge awaiting baking. Stick a fork in me, I'm done. I'm not moving. That reminds me, where's that catheter I ordered? xtxbai

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