The One Where I’m Stranded

The tall husband of mine – you know, the one who lives off of ESPN and processed cheese – he took my keys!  And now I’m stranded at the apartment, with seriously urgent errands.  I can’t even think about the consequences of not returning nail polish to Ulta today.  I mean, the horror!  And dinner on Wednesday night – it will be absolutely ruined if I don’t buy tomatoes within the next hour.  If only I had a chaise lounge to faint dramatically onto…

In any case, I might have cabin fever.  A very pleasant visit from Joe’s dad this past weekend helped perk things up around here, but today is back to square one.  Mostly because my shin splints have gotten really bad, and running is painful, so I’m listening to my body and backing off a little bit.  But what am I supposed to plan my day around now?  I wish I could solve my problems with more books (I’ve really tried), but that won’t help the crazy associated with excess idleness.  I need a job, people!  And I’m working on it, really and truly.

I also need someone to take me to Harris Teeter.  I’ll reimburse you in snacks and/or free samples.

Breaking news – the tall husband is on his way with my keys.  Too late.  I’ve already put back on my yoga pants and blogged about it.

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