I blew off one of my jobs this morning in favor of a dream in which I was at a birthday party at Deanna's old house up in the hills that ended when the town started catching on fire and simultaneously flooding. I escaped on a floating mattress.
I poured a shot of vodka into my orange juice before I left for my other job.
I scheduled a massage for after work (because all I ever really want is to pay $140/hour for strangers to poke me).
Then it's happy hour with the bar troops, dinner with the boy somewhere outstanding, and it's back my nest o' heating pad and Arrested Development because my uterus has remarkable timing.