I’m so behind on posting, not that anyone really cares, but I’ve been working, yay! It’s like I’m almost a working actress, but “working” is a term I use loosely, like very loosely. Image a person who has a full time job and works everyday, now imagine their office has planned like a charity function or something, and needs someone to pass out fliers for the event so there are lots of people in attendance, I would likely be a bystander in receipt of the flier and would really want to go – but it would be scheduled for the ONLY Saturday in May that I had a gig booked. Figure that one out, it makes no sense, I’m not sure where I was even going with that. That was actually similar to one of the questions I took on my math final this past weekend. I hated those questions. Where they just give you so much information, it’s an overload, then ask you the simplest question and it’s literally like a mind F*^%.
“Joseph Morgan went to the store, waving bye to his dog Muffin, he jumped in his black Ford Escalade and arrived at approximately 8:16pm seeking to purchase six liters of Ginger Ale. Each bottle was $3.42, but he had a “buy one get one 50% off” coupon, and went on a Friday night where Safeway doubles coupons. Then he made his girlfriend Rita a mix tape with twelve songs, one of which was Backstreet’s number one hit in 2011. What was the name of Joseph’s dog?”
It’s a real struggle. Especially with the girls at the ages where they are either physically fighting or quietly destroying the house. It must be a deep rooted animalistic urge to just destroy stuff. Exhibit A, I’m sitting outside in a lawn chair watching them run around the driveway and play with the giant clumps of pollen. They drag out all their nice shiny Barbie ride on toys and crash them into the yard and proceed to play with nature crap. They have now taken the sidewalk chalk and configured circles and squares all over the driveway and filled each section with pollen and rocks. W just walked by and her mouth is white. She said she used the sidewalk chalk as lipstick, oh dear god.
and yes, that is my dog pooping in the middle of the driveway. I don’t know why.