Monday through Friday

6:45-7:05 – Somewhere in here I’ll usually roll out of bed and realize I’m going to be late for work. Again. I toss on clothes that have been laying in a wrinkled heap on dresser all night (or week), trip over the cats, battle with Dan for the bathroom, trip over the cats, feed the cats, and yell at Dan because he’s parked behind me and I’m running late/be yelled at by Dan because I’m parked behind him and he’s running late (life was much easier when we didn’t leave at the same time).

7:10-8:05 – I drive to work, either listening to KDWB and alternating between laughing and feeling superior that I’m not one of them (You know, them.) or listening to the same two or three songs over and over and over…

8:05 – 5:00 – Work. Wherein I work. Or “work”.

5:00 – 6:10 – I drive home from work, hungry, grumpy, head ache-y, hating the radio, hating my cds, hating everything. Not the best hour and ten minutes of my day. Ever.

6:15-10:00-ish – Complain that we don’t have any food in the house, watch really bad tv, play around with Photoshop on my laptop. For most of the evening I’ll have at least one cat on my lap, and somewhere in there I’ll take a long shower (sans cat on lap).

10:00-ish – I loudly proclaim that I’ve finally had enough of the world, with its “lights” and “consciousness”, and go to bed, where I’ll toss and turn for an hour before falling asleep.

I know that anyone with kids who is reading this is cursing my name and planting a bomb in my underwear drawer (rightfully so) because oh my god, I sleep a lot! And I never deal with anyone else’s poo.

Wait, what was my point? Oh yes. I want a baby. Sigh.

(Not that I want a baby so I’ll stop watching The Pussycat Dolls Present: Girlicious. No. That has nothing to do with it. Totally unrelated.)