I don't know why, but it was quite impossible for me to get out of bed this morning. When I don't have to work until the afternoon, my mind and body sort of shut off until that point. I think I'm brainwashed.
Aaron forced me out of bed by putting a belgian waffle on the table, just out of reach from the depths of the comforter. He knows me so well; I only rise for money, bacon, or waffles.
Surprisingly, we stuck to our plan that we had formed the day prior: we went to the beach. It was a fucking gorgeous day -- cold enough to require my beloved $30 knee-length coat, warm enough to take off my shoes and roll up my pants. We played fetch with the dog on the sand dunes, contemplated exploring the tide pools but decided against it because they were a bit of a walk away, and cuddled and kissed and stared at the waves.
Off to work I went and spent a very boring four hours organizing the store. I work in a very small shop, and I spend a good deal of every shift sizing merchandise. How it happens that the clothes get so misorganized is a mystery, but it gives me something to do.
I think that my mascara is weighing down my eyelids.
Aaron's watching "The Harder They Come," his netflick of late. He's had the DVD for a few days now and has been singing the song incessantly. I'm the first to say that Jamaican music is infectious -- that's part of the reason I can't stand it, and that he has been repeating the only lyrics he knows from the title song ("the harder they come / the harder they fall / one and all") for three days straight only furthers my exhaustion of those upbeat Jamaican tempos.
Here is what is very pathetic: I have to look up words that I used in entries of years past. Of course, if I haven't used the word since I wrote it, it must not be that important...right?
Esp came over tonight and commented on my hair. I positively beamed when she noticed that I'd spent an hour blowdying my crazy locks -- it makes it all worth it. By "it all," I refer to the fact that I have to stand on the toilet to blowdry my hair because I can't see into the bathroom mirror because I am too short. Bollocks.
one year ago today: "you know you're pmsing when somebody makes you a nutella sandwich and you lick the nutella off the bread because that's all you really wanted anyway. dignity be damned!" two years ago today: "Take that, universe." and "even when i try to ask for help, no one wants me.
" three years ago today: "i'm having a bad day"