"A blog a day for one week."
But I'm in. I'm blogging with bells on, regardless of the "1:50 AM" glaring at me from the upper right-hand corner. Fuck you, clock! Granted, I'm not about to attempt witty jocosity or intellectual acrobatics at this God-awful hour... But I can certainly crack out a quickie, maintain my end of the deal, and at the very least walk myself through some day-in-the-life-of nonsense...
Awaken to the sounds of absolutely nothing. Who knew Mondays were so quiet?! Happy. Rested. Thrilled, even. This is the first morning in a handful of mornings that I haven't felt in need of "just a few more minutes". I am up, ready to start my day and feeling cracked-out on life.
Showered, teeth brushed, and make-up dial set to "on". Ready to face the day. Or what's left of it... Bookstore bound.
Having accomplished with minimal effort, the requisite errands- which help me to feel absolutely productive and totally guilt-free about sleeping the day away, we secure sustenance in the form of blended fruity goodness and baked berry muffin brilliance. Inordinate waiting ensues as we're obliged to tolerate the incompetence and blending follies of a "trainee".
Having wandered into a costume store, we are overcome with latex and colored polyester fur. All comin' atcha LIVE with a healthy coating of dust! Allergies immediately send out red flags and make threats... Something about taking another step, and rearing an ugly head... But this is not simply gratuitous browsing, we're on a mission. As the boyfriend seeks to post t-shirts online and requires a lady to model said shirts, it falls upon me to make said body available as his animated mannequin. Unforrrrtunately, said mannequin requires one or more of the following to get in front of a camera without suffering any of that pesky anxiety attack stuff...
1. Stiff drink- preferably of the brown variety and served short.
2. Recreational drugs- preferably fast acting and taken in double doses.
3. A mask- preferably of the over-the-head rather than over-the-face variety. As in, if they (as in the entire population of Earth) can't see my hair either, they DEFINITELY won't know it's me!
We don't believe in "loitering" per se... As evident by the not infrequent hours spent reading entire volumes of newly released books and magazines in Barnes & Noble. After the first hour and a half or so, the staff might begin to suspect you of vagrancy, and give you the "buy or bolt" look. This is your cue to meander into the cafe and order a $1.10 tea. Money well spent! This tea just bought you another hour, cowboy.
Having emerged at last from the black hole of Calcutta that is the bookstore- we decide that the next two hours would be best spent seeing the new Angelina Jolie film. Retro theatre... No lines... Matinee rates... We're so in. And lucky me, the boyfriend claims revulsion of Jolie's infamous "pillow lips". "I wouldn't want to kiss those". Clearly, he loves me- and I love the big fat liar right back.
Cooking inabilities reach new heights when forgotten-about steamed artichokes emerge smokey and burned.
Is it really that late? Having eaten ourselves silly, brainstormed on the couch for a few hours, argued over exes and groped each other sufficiently- it's time to call it a night.
Looking so forward to sleeping in again tomorrow. Looking so forward to gloating in the face of doubt. How dare he suspect I'd flake out on this blog challenge! And so it begins...