Remind me again...

Why I don't go back to bed after the Hubby has to leave at some godawful hour to go to work? Especially when I woke up at 2am, could not get comfortable in any position whatsoever, and didn't get back to sleep until around 3:30am? ARGH.

To-do list for the day:

• Write Over two hundred words counts as "writing," right?
  
• A shower might go a long way in helping me feel close to human again Yes, that sort of worked. Now with extra-clean hair, because mistaking the shampoo for the conditioner is FUN!
  
• Get the Purple CruiserBerry inspected
  
• Get it registered Did it online tonight. *growls at Boy*
  
• Write The abrupt scene break is my friend, and I will embrace it and use it as a crutch and call it "George."
  
• Make a deposit at the bank
  
• Pay for the Hubby's auctions One of his sellers doesn't take Paypal. Therefore, I have to go back to the bank tomorrow, make a withdrawal, buy a money order, and send it out. Joy.
  
• Take Da Boy to Burger King (assuming he's good today) And isn't THAT going to be a fun story/rant for a new post...
  
• Write
  
• Get soda, because not having caffeine-y goodness is of the bad
  
• Clean the arm of my couch. Again. It's, like, this black hole of reading material.

Somewhere around six thousand words and counting on the apocalyptothon fic. The current scene will probably cause some heads to explode. *evil laughter*

Remind me again...

Why I don't go back to bed after the Hubby has to leave at some godawful hour to go to work? Especially when I woke up at 2am, could not get comfortable in any position whatsoever, and didn't get back to sleep until around 3:30am? ARGH.

To-do list for the day:

• Write Over two hundred words counts as "writing," right?
  
• A shower might go a long way in helping me feel close to human again Yes, that sort of worked. Now with extra-clean hair, because mistaking the shampoo for the conditioner is FUN!
  
• Get the Purple CruiserBerry inspected
  
• Get it registered Did it online tonight. *growls at Boy*
  
• Write The abrupt scene break is my friend, and I will embrace it and use it as a crutch and call it "George."
  
• Make a deposit at the bank
  
• Pay for the Hubby's auctions One of his sellers doesn't take Paypal. Therefore, I have to go back to the bank tomorrow, make a withdrawal, buy a money order, and send it out. Joy.
  
• Take Da Boy to Burger King (assuming he's good today) And isn't THAT going to be a fun story/rant for a new post...
  
• Write
  
• Get soda, because not having caffeine-y goodness is of the bad
  
• Clean the arm of my couch. Again. It's, like, this black hole of reading material.

Somewhere around six thousand words and counting on the apocalyptothon fic. The current scene will probably cause some heads to explode. *evil laughter*

Remind me again...

...why I became a parent?

So. Da Boy and I generally take an outing to Burger King once a week when the Hubby goes to work. It makes me not have to fix a meal, and they have a play area for after, while I finish my milkshake-y goodness. Now, going to BK is predicated on the assumption that Da Boy has been at least reasonably good that day--"reasonably good" being defined as "I didn't have to scream at him like a freakin' banshee and banish him to his room." Sounds simple, right? It's something I hang over his head, because I'm all for the carrot and stick approach. ( Um, wow, that got long... )

Never again. He wants to go to Burger King, he has to be good for the entire first day the Hubby's gone, and the morning after. Because, as aforementioned, I have no caffeine-y goodness right now because we didn't stop at the grocery store, and I got up absurdly early this morning. Not only that, but the check I wrote at the stop light is going to waste, because, dude? Not driving all the way back there with the price of gas the way it is. I'll register the thing online like I should have in the first damb place.

RAWR.

At least we finally got our refund from the IRS today. Furniture ahoy! *does a little dance*

ETA: Oh, no, he wasn't tired at all. I set the timer for an hour, it goes off, and I go up to tell him he can get up now? He's crashed and burned. Barely twitched when I opened his door and let the dog out of his room. I'll have to get him up because otherwise he won't want to go to bed tonight, but...yeah. Tired Boy.

Remind me again...

...why I became a parent?

So. Da Boy and I generally take an outing to Burger King once a week when the Hubby goes to work. It makes me not have to fix a meal, and they have a play area for after, while I finish my milkshake-y goodness. Now, going to BK is predicated on the assumption that Da Boy has been at least reasonably good that day--"reasonably good" being defined as "I didn't have to scream at him like a freakin' banshee and banish him to his room." Sounds simple, right? It's something I hang over his head, because I'm all for the carrot and stick approach. ( Um, wow, that got long... )

Never again. He wants to go to Burger King, he has to be good for the entire first day the Hubby's gone, and the morning after. Because, as aforementioned, I have no caffeine-y goodness right now because we didn't stop at the grocery store, and I got up absurdly early this morning. Not only that, but the check I wrote at the stop light is going to waste, because, dude? Not driving all the way back there with the price of gas the way it is. I'll register the thing online like I should have in the first damb place.

RAWR.

At least we finally got our refund from the IRS today. Furniture ahoy! *does a little dance*

ETA: Oh, no, he wasn't tired at all. I set the timer for an hour, it goes off, and I go up to tell him he can get up now? He's crashed and burned. Barely twitched when I opened his door and let the dog out of his room. I'll have to get him up because otherwise he won't want to go to bed tonight, but...yeah. Tired Boy.