I just made 24 individual boozey pies . . . which are interestingly arranged in my very small freezer. My kitchen is a mess . . . the rest of my house is untidy . . . and my family is coming over tomorrow. Oh, and I have to get ready for this blind date, in less than an hour.
I need some uncrabby pills. Right now. Or booze. Or something. A Hallmark greeting card? I don't know. An attitude adjustment.
And I would like to take some pictures, maybe get something up on ravelry and there just isn't time. I promised myself this would be a one drink affair, but it's not going to work out that way. It never does. Plus, that would be wasting a big bunch of pretty and the putting on of high heels in snow.
Maybe makeup will make me feel better. Doesn't seem fair to the rest of the work when I am this Crabbypants. Oh, wait, I haven't eaten anything today (well, except boozey pie remnants) so maybe that will help.
Now let's just hope that those suckers come out of those foil cups.
Update: It's 6:20 and Gwen Stefani is right . . . the magic is in the makeup. I feel slightly better and more confident about facing the world. I probably should eat something, but they have nachos el magnifico where I'm going (you didn't know they served Nachos in Hades?) (I know, I know, bad attitude . . . stop it) and my brother is close so I can go visit him after and shoot Z with Nerf darts. Nerf darts will fix most things. Well, and sometimes they break stuff . . . and that's cool too.
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