Porty I don't think works. Why else would he ask me to update my blog at 9 IN THE MORNING? I'm concerned he might just wear suits everyday 'cause we expect him to.
In order to meet this high demand for my wisdom, and to chip away at the thousand things that I have committed to get done, I would need an office.
We have an office but Walter has 10 jobs and needs his own office. The Control Room we call it. So I decided to make a corner for myself in the solarium. At 8am. One thing led to another and I didn't stop until midnight. I couldn't even talk on the phone 'cause my mind was 10 steps ahead of my body solving cleaning and organizing issues. The show Hoarders and Diet Pepsi have a profound effect on me. My office turned into Desk/Music mixing station/Plant Nursery. I'm calling it The Blogarium, or The Hot Traxx Studio. I'm blogging from the couch as I don't want to disturb the order.
I then made the painting that Ted Foley painted for me into a headboard. I really like the painting but it is so DAMN BIG I have been fighting with it for months trying to find it a home. It's home. I even found a way to make my BatPhone a design relevant knick knack. I've been humping that thing around for years to. I've been trying to justify owning to cabinet radios for years too. Success. Our house has been overhauled and cleaned, thoroughly.Then I made dinner. I just couldn't stop.
White floors. Vaccuum. White floors. Vacuum. I meditate by vaccuuming now.
Andrea is coming over tomorrow to tell me how fast I can have my new bathroom. It never ends. Then I paint. I haven't old Walter about the painting yet. Baby steps. He's always coming home to a completely different apartment to the one he left.
I had better things to blog about, but I'm exhausted and I don't care if you're entertained. Colon Blow Cookie baking day tomorrow them the kids are coming over for dinner...
There I blogged. Get off my back.
I say something interesting tomorrow. Maybe.
