I spent the whole of yesterday wrangling kids into and out of a moonbounce. Today, I woke up so sore I had to literally roll out of bed. Sitting is barely an option. At $20 an hour, I think it was worth it -- at least I can claim it as a workout. However, I don't understand how moms can't lose their babyweight running after their toddlers: those things are heavy as fuck.
Geo was in town so we went out to the neighborhood dive bar Molotovs on Haight. A good time was had by all until Damien got cranky and Aaron decided he had had too much to drink. Highlight: some girl in a short skirt and heels sitting with her legs splayed on the ground beside a giant puddle of vomit while her friends coached her into good confidence by dubbing her the puke princess.
Today is a lazy day full of hangovers, greasy breakfasts, and glaring at Ross for being closed on Easter Sunday. If he rose for anything, he did it so I can shop, dammit. Bring on the hatemail.
