The other night I got up in the dark and SMASHED the top of my foot into my open bottom drawer. And I now have a bruise, cut, and sore spot on the top of my left foot. This afternoon I put on my cute little thong sandals to walk home from the bus stop and the top of my sandal was JAMMING into my injured foot. EFFER. So I took it off. And I marched my ass home with one shoe on my right foot, and the other shoe in my left hand. Classy.
I actually managed to get the eff out of bed this morning. I tried something new. For weeks (since I went back to work - part time, but still!) it takes me a good two hours to get up. If not more. Call me crazy. Seriously, you can call me that, 'cause it's true. Anyway, this morning I out-smarted myself (it isn't hard) and I took my damn time. I sat on the deck with my friends Twitter, Toast, and Tea. I still delayed work until the last. possible. moment. But I embraced my denial about that fact, which overall I felt better about.
My friend and I watched Gnomeo and Juliet last night. Stupid little cartoon about gnomes. I guess it had some cute parts, and I laughed a few times, but there is something DAMN CREEPY about gnomes. DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON GNOMES. In high school we used to steal them and place them on our friends' front porches with threatening notes attached. Creepy. And when gnomes are sacrificing themselves in the name of Shakespearean love? Even creepier.
A young guy got on the bus today and sat next to me. He looked like a construction worker or landscaper or something. Dirty and sweaty and lacking sleeves. I ignored him like I do everyone else. But then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw him do something so awful that I just HAD to share it with y'all. He slid his fingers into his armpit, and then, yes, he SMELLED THEM. He tried to be all stealth about it... FAIL. For chrissakes I thought that was a bit on SNL.