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I am so sick of the seemingly never ending stream of crap email that finds it's way into my inbox on a daily basis. Apparently there are a lot of companies out there who think I need: a job, a new watch, a bigger penis, investment advice, and Viagra. I need none of these things. Well, maybe a new job would be nice, but not the ones that I am being offered multiple times a day. My favorite husband, who has no concept of email and doesn't even touch the computer, sees the words "85 new messages" and freaks out every time. It goes something like this:
"85 new messages, what the hell is up with that?"
"It's fucking spam."
"I thought spam was food."
Every time.

It is the weekend again and I am thrilled. Of course by Friday afternoon I am tired of the crap I deal with at work and can't wait to be home for 2 whole days. The best part is not having the alarm go off at 4:30 am. But, invariably, I will come to miss work. More than likely this will happen by tomorrow afternoon. I sleep too late, I eat too much, I am messy, I don't plan well, I spend too much money, I waste time, I am on the computer too much, I dont' drink enough alcohol, I speak to men, I use too much cream in my coffee, i read for fun, i breathe. I don't know how people can be around me when I am such a burdensome disappointment. Luckily I have someone who cares enough to point these things out for me.

Big game on Sunday. I invited Jenny over to watch it and have sandwiches. I don't know why, but I am really in the mood for sandwiches.

So I finally finished the 6th Harry Potter book. I am so glad I re-read it because I had forgotten so much. I started the 7th book again. I am only on the 2nd chapter because I was really bloody tired last night and the book is quite heavy. I have a tendency to fall asleep while reading and sometimes the book falls on my face.

I bought Miles some Spider-Man flannel sheets. Erik wants me to buy flannel sheets for our bed, but I absolutely refuse. I detest being hot while sleeping. I flip my pillow over AT LEAST 20 times a night so it will feel cold again. My theory about this is that if Erik is so frigging cold, perhaps he should try wearing something to bed besides his boxers. I wear pajamas and I am perfectly lovely. My other problem is silence. We have become sound addicts. I have to have a fan or air conditioner or some other sound-making device going or I cannot sleep well. It is kind or irritating.

I should really go do something productive now.