So today I went on a womany-housewifey spree. I made lunch, did the dishes (twice) and the laundry. I even took my comforter and pillows to the laundry mat to wash them in the BIG washing machines. Anyway, proof that I am incompetent in these matters just came out of the dryer. For some reason, I put bleach in the washer with my sheets. My sheets are, excuse me, were black. Anyway, just in case you were ever wondering, bleach turns black sheets into a rusty pinky orangy color, and not consistently, but in giant ink-blot type splotches. So currently I am suppressing anger, frustration, disappointment, and self-loathing. I feel it beginning in my stomach. It is boiling up into my throat, ready to spill over. Breathe in. Breathe out. Or as Senorita Benedum would say, "Step back, take a deep breath, let it go" But now I have to buy some new sheets, because I will get upset everytime I look at my bed. And I cannot afford new sheets just now, although I do enjoy buying new an awful lot. Okay, it is my obsession. Now, don't you go and say that this was sabotage. I do save all my sheets so I can have a variety of bedclothes to choose from. Why would I ruin some? I do hate these black sheets though. They show everything. I am upset. They look SO bad.
AND. . . There is a spider living in my room without my permission! I went to go find someone to kill it and it was gone when I came back. Worse thing, it was over my bed when I left it. Is it on my bed now? What if it crawls in my mouth or nose or ears or hair while I am sleeping? They say people eat bugs in their sleep. Well, Ashley said that I think. *Shudder* How I am supposed to sleep now? Darn it. I just hate bugs.
I was having a good day too.