Give Me An Orange Perm and Call Me Annie

Well it’s amazing just how much sunnier a girl’s disposition can get with two full pee jugs and a sales contract on her apartment behind her.  That girl might even traipse around the house singing Kajagoogoo while eating chocolate chip cookies for breakfast.  What?  They have oatmeal in them.

For those of you that haven’t had enough caffeine yet, I’m the girl in the scenario.  And I have the pee jugs to prove it.

Also?  This happened pretty much overnight.

This Might Be Why I'm Sneezing

I can see exactly two trees from my apartment.  The other one still looks dead and wrapped in a shroud of winter, but this little blooming guy seems to think the party has started and it’s time to put on flip flops.  Man I hope he’s right.  After seven months in shoes, my feet are starting to feel like Miley Cyrus’s leather legging bound crotch at the end of the European leg of her world tour.

Between yesterday’s accomplishments and the beautiful allergy factory across the street, my mood is so improved that I am able to almost completely block out the fact that there will soon be a third generation of little Rod Stewarts potentially defiling the musical landscape.  Almost.  *shudder*

And?  I have an orange pen.  When’s the last time you wrote in an orange pen?  Now every piece of paper in my apartment has “Look!  I’m Orange!” written in orange ink somewhere conspicuous.  Which?  It turns out is not something you should do on a legal document.

…and so concludes your real estate lesson for the day.

Of course Mercury is going to make this all super difficult, so I’m not going to count my newborn hedgehogs before they’ve burst forth from the womb all covered with spikes.  Or the chicken, egg, hatch thing.  Same diff.

Pardon Me While I Cross My Legs and Have a Panic Attack

So let’s focus on the joy that is my new orange pen.  Did I mention it’s a ballpoint?  So no matter how many times I sneeze all over it, the ink doesn’t run!  Aren’t the scientific advances of mankind just mind boggling?  I haven’t even tried the lime green one yet.  Expect a 400 page dissertation on the joys of lime green ballpoint pens by the end of the week.

Look Interwebz, I can’t drink and I currently don’t own a single pair of pants that fit me.  Well, maybe I do but they’re all in storage so who can say for sure.  Regardless, my open invitations to watch me sit pant-less on my couch while serving fruit juices have thus far not been well received.  So my social calendar is somewhat blank at the moment.  I have to take excitement where I can find it.  Which is apparently in orange, ballpoint pens.  And unicorn pasties.  But that’s a story for another day.

Today I’m just going to wait patiently for the sun.  Even if I have to draw it myself with a bad ass orange pen.

41 comments to Give Me An Orange Perm and Call Me Annie

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