Ever have one of those lazy-ass Thursday afternoons?

Picture, if you will, an over cast, generally crappy weather pattern, a tummy reminiscing the morning's vegan donut (and the sugar crash from aforementioned donut), and the jump in your heart (and chair) when you've leaned back--yawning and stretching--to the point of no return and you fall over. Literally.

There's a bed down the street calling my name where I can curl up with a good rat (or two) and spend the day doing the important things...reading comic books, playing God of War, and watching Eloise play Cliffhanger (a MUCH better actor than Stallone...I might add...Rambo excluded) and the Burning Man episode of LDotD for the umteenth-billion time.



There's too much stuff waiting in the wings for this week to be anywhere near productive. Mexico, M for Masturbation, Momma...ok, apparently it's only things that begin with the letter "M" But, still, work doesn't being with an "M", so I say it has no business in my two-week plan.

But, despite my best efforts at calling in dead (everyone calls in sick and no one believes them...call in dead ), here I sit in front my computer (except for that brief moment when I fell out of my chair) boredly blogging and silently contemplating the weighty decision of sandwich or corporate burrito for lunch.

The highlight of my day so far? I've had a sweatshirt on since about 8:00 this morning and I only discovered it had a hidden pocket at 12:11...that damned hidden pocket eluded me for 4+ hours.

AND...I have recently purchased the best book ever written...

And Tango Makes Three