Last Night, 5:30pm:
We're getting ready to go to TDR's and TAB's Pumpkin-Carving Party. Will's in the shower, I'm, erm, taking care of some personal grooming.
Will looks at me. Is that my razor?
Yeah, it gives me a closer shave.
He grimaces. I wish you wouldn't do that.
Why? It's not like I'm sticking it in my butt.
I know.
I rinse it out when I'm done, I buy the replacement blades---
It'll give me vaginaface.
It'll give you what?
Vaginaface!
You know that I do this so it's less messy for when you, you know, actually have your face in my vagina.
I know.
So you understand how ludicrous this sounds?
Vaginaface!
At least my hair - on my head - looked cute.
This morning, 9:30am...or is that 10:30am?:
After two parties and a late-night stop at Jan's (because I need a gyro at 1:00am, and can I also ask, why does a diner need a website?) we came home and crawled into bed. I was dead asleep until Will ran into the room.
We lost an hour! We lost an hour!
What? I rub the sleep from my eyes. Slow down.
This is the day you set the clocks ahead.
Okay, if we're doing anything to the clocks, we're setting them back.
No, no, I was working at my computer and it says 9:30 but my cell says 10:30. It's ahead!
I slowly retain consciousness. No, Will, it's spring ahead, fall behind. And I'm pretty sure it's next week. Your computer is just dumb and prematurely set your clock behind. I pad into the kitchen. The microwave and the kitchen clock both read 10:30am.
Normally it's this weekend, but for some reason it's next weekend, I tell him.
Are you sure?
I grab the computer and quickly Google it. Yes, I'm sure, next week.
Oh, okay. You can go back to bed.
I raise an eyebrow.
Or, you can uh, lay there on the couch and watch the Bears game and I'll go get us coffee and how about I make dinner tonight?
Now you're beginning to make sense.
