Without Help From Heloise

I'm sitting here with a towel wrapped around my head, and absolutely no interest in doing everything I'm supposed to do today, including but not limited to picking up around the house, combing the rat nest out of my hair and at some point driving into the city for a little Barnes & Noble Christmas gift certificate shopping. And when one considers - as I generally do now that I'm driving a new vehicle - the snow to road ratio outside, it's easier to make up reasons to stay inside rather than join the masses of ignorant, don't know well enough to slow down drivers out on the open road.

However I can be easily swayed to change my mind. Say for instance that Brenda were to call and say, "Stace ... You, me, shopping." I can guarantee I'd be out the door within five seconds flat, kicking the four wheel drive in gear and ignoring the fact that as usual, living out in the middle of nowhere like I do, the plows haven't bothered to beat a path down our little road. (Unlike last night when I was creeping along the shoulder to avoid being pushed off into the ditch as they hogged the road with their giant shovel.)

But as I look around the living room where I am typing, it's becoming appallingly apparent that regardless of my lack of liking for housework, I need to learn to loathe it a little less, at least for the next hour.

Which means that I'm grounding myself for the afternoon - Brenda, call me - to accomplish everything and anything that I should have done the entire week. That is unless my phone rings and someone comes up with a better plan ...

Toodles all, I'm about to get my clean on.