Case of “the Mondays” on a Sunday

Pizza, Downton Abbey, martinis with pants-less friends, soy lattes, snow, rocking out to Love Story, a mother/daughter wedding brainstorm session, sleeping in until 9, brunch, pedicures, Sherlock Holmes, anal gland expression (more on this later)…

In summary, I had a really nice weekend. Too short? Absolutely. One too many expressed anal glands? For sure. But I will take what I can get.

I’d be lying if I said Y:The Last Man wasn’t burning a whole in my lap right now. I can’t seem to pull myself away from it for long enough to post all the pictures I took this weekend (no babies or dogs neither! Imagine a world!). So for now, adieu, my friends. I shall return in about five and a half volumes.


This picture has multiple purposes. 1) To prove to you I don’t give a rat’s ass about matching. And 2) To demonstrate how good I am at hailing cabs. In Frederick. On Carroll Creek.

So really just the first one. And maybe also to show you just how fast this girl will get ready in order to get to brunch that much faster. I’m extremely driven.

 I’m taking a full-on leap into this coming week. Otherwise, I might just give up and sleep right through it. It’s out of character for me to be so defeated this early in the game, but I want to keep it real. I can just feel this week already kicking my ass.

Cheers to a case of the Mondays on a Sunday. Never a good sign.

Oh! And good luck to one of my favorite gals, Georgia, who has surgery tomorrow. If it’s any consolation, I think your super loud weird breathing is adorable.

Stay tough, little dudette.


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