God damn it, people who had this place before me, why did you put a fluorescent tube fixture I can’t reach both ends of on the ceiling and then make it impossible to remove the damn things when they’re burnt out when you (couldn’t possibly) know I don’t have a stepladder but do have horrible anxiety about broken glass and mercury?
There we go. Some scribbles ought to make up for the vanity stuff. Or maybe they’re part of it? Or have nothing to do with it at all. Some sort of thing.
Just want to take a moment to admit that I feel tremendous joy/relief/glee/whatever when I find out that famous, attractive men are under six feet tall. I don’t know it’s just, it’s hopeful I guess? I’m in my mid-30s and married and it still happens every time.
Tumblr: where I yammer on endlessly about my vanity for some reason.
I have a difficult time finding plaid shirts with snap closures, especially without some hideous embroidery all over them. I see them on television, so they must be out there. Well fine. I have trouble running across them in places I already go. OK, yes, this is the internet and I could probably find some with little effort. But the thing is, I need to try them on.
And I must have snaps for reasons it would probably be indelicate to articulate. Yes, that happens even at my age.
So that’s what Winter Weather Advisory means. Guess it’ll be an n-day weekend.
Dr. Strange - Master of the Mystic Arts #29
“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”
But no, see if he ever pulls diplomatic strings to get a foreign neurosurgeon smuggled into the country to put your stupid brain back in your head again.