It’s been a day of ass-sitting, but out of pure necessity.  Today, ass-sitting has actually been productive (and celebratory!  according to the scale, said ass has gotten smaller through the holidays!  wth?). 

I’ve gone through a year’s worth of photos, categorized and tagged them, sorted them, and freaked out because I don’t have pictures of my child’s third birthday.  What kind of a parent doesn’t have pictures of her child’s third birthday??  Not even the first one?  Where was I?  Apparently, somewhere WITHOUT THE CAMERA.  Geez.

I’ve unearthed $40 worth of gift cards to Restoration Hardware and a set of baseball cards from a web design I did eons ago.  Similarly unearthed?  A set of photos from my high school’s production of Oklahoma! in ‘93.  Heh. 

At long last, I finished a friend’s website I was supposed to have done in, oh, AUGUST.  Not that said website works in IE or Safari, but that’s what tonight and that bottle of wine is for, right?

I’ve called the friggen fraggen Time Life Books people and asked them politely to stop sending me a new! expensive! book! every four weeks. 

I’ve canceled two online services I simply don’t use anymore, including TypePad, which was sad.  I was an early Beta tester for TypePad (during which I found Allan, Ali, and Mike) and had a 20% Lifetime Discount.  LIFETIME.  Dayum, I hate letting that go.  I’m a fool for discounts. 

I’ve also waded through way. too. much. paperwork.  My scanner and shredder will sleep well tonight, and the file cabinet is sufficiently sated after it’s New Year’s Feast.

Finally, it’s January 2nd and I’ve already sent three emails to our accountant about things that for the past two years he’s been hounding me for in April. 

Tomorrow, I’m rewarding myself with an afternoon at the spa: Facial, Mani, Pedi.  I expect full relaxation and sore stomach muscles after much laughter with The Big B and The Pill.  Rawk.

But not until I get all these embarrassing high school musical pictures up on Facebook.  Beware, Facebook friends.  You’re about to be reminded of your hideously large bangs and your shaggy bowl cuts.  Ah, the early 90s.  When I was skinny, depressed, and known as “Hitler.”  Those were the days.

Name:

Email:

Location:

URL:

Remember my personal information

Notify me of follow-up comments?