Anyway, every day I'd make that bed and every day that bump seemed to grow.
And then came the day, the boards started splitting apart.
And to answer your question, so you don't have to strain your fingers typing, that contraption surrounded by my clothes and bedroom dresser is not a medieval torture device. It's an antique wine press because when it comes to the wine, we're freaks like that.
And then there was my bed. Oh, my bed.
And yes, I know my bed is unmade in this pic. It is because my Hubby was reading the paper in nothing but his skivvies and I told him unless he wanted to become a member of the elite group of those who have semi-nude photos of themselves scattered about the Internet, he might want to jump out of the shot. And yes, those are my shoes on the mantle. Because, they are new and because I would beat my 2 crapheads with them if they added them to their list of puppy casualties in this house.
Not only was my entire home uprooted for a month, I had to sleep in the dead center of my freakin' house with glass windows all the freakin' way around it.
I'm not overreacting
Something is off
Why don't we ever believe ourselves'
And I, Oh I
I feel that word for you
And I will because you've worn me down
Oh I will because you've worn me down
Worn me down like a road
I did anything you told
Worn me down to my knees
Posted by Joann Mannix at 1:43 PM
Labels: Bella, bono, company, Florida, laundry, Lovely Daughters, mortifying moments, puppies, taa-taas, The Hubby, whiny illnesses, wine