I want to write about something but am drawing a blank. Maybe I'm slightly distracted by my normally reserved daughter's gyrations to the Glee soundtrack in the kitchen. Maybe I'm too tired. Maybe I've run out of things to say. That's really unlikely though.
My husband wants to go out tonight. We've talked about taking in a movie. Do you people know what time a late show starts these days? Freakin' 10:15. I'm not really comfortable falling asleep in the theatre. Don't get me wrong, I've done it before and so would like to avoid it. Actually I wouldn't have minded falling asleep during 'Inglorious Basterds' but the theatre was freezing so no such luck.
He also suggested drinking. I'm not really in the mood for that either. I'm tired. My three year old must have just won a Guinness World Record award this week for the child with the most energy in the history of the world while 'down' with the chicken pox. I'm afraid I'd have one drink and nod off.
He though, had a very stressful week as he is working for the real-life equivalent of, well I want to say Marie Barone from Everybody Loves Raymond but I'm not really sure that encapsulates it. Ryan really is patient by nature but this woman has put him over the edge. She gave him food and he THREW IT AWAY. He does not throw food away. Ever. He really does not like her and having met her myself and having her ask me my name three times within seven minutes, I can't say I'm a fan either. She then decided she'd remember my name, Angela, by associating it with 'angel' as in and she said: "Ryan's wife is an angel. Angela." Okay then, I guess I'll remember her name with the following: 'Marilyn is a moron'. I think if Marilyn could've read my mind the other day, that is if she isn't illiterate, and believe me I have my suspicions, she'd have a whole other word association with which to remember me by.
Gotta go, time to Busta' Move.