Too Many Books

Yesterday, I made a promise. I promised my husband that I would do the dishes tonight. This is not awesome. The sink is full to overflowing and I have a sneaking suspicion that the majority of the dishes and utensils may be best described as crusty. The predicament is that I have not done dishes in um, over a week. Granted, that's only 4 or so actual meals in the Murphy household. Typically, we eat at least one frozen pizza per week, which requires minimal cleanup. We never cook breakfast (unless it's at dinner time!) and when I do come home for lunch, I heat up something lean-cuisine-ish and dirty only a fork. Then there are the nights -- like tonight -- when I bring home Qboda and chew away stress. (Chicken nachos > antidepressants.) I'm procrastinating... there are several items that are daunting me more than a little: there's a casserole dish from shepherd's pie which is soaking at the bottom of the sink like long-buried treasure, certain to be alg...

Good morning. (No, I'm lying. It's not a good morning. This morning seriously sucks.) (Don't mind me, that's the tired talking.) I am just not used to this new schedule yet. Before yesterday, I could not tell you the last time I left my house before 9:00 in the morning. I'm sure those of you with kids or other early morning responsibilities are singing Cry Me a River in Justin Timberlake's beautiful falsetto even as you read this. Which is fair, I guess. I mean, it's my fault you had babies. Just kidding, friends. Pausespice to make coffee so to summon the nice amber... And... here she is. So, yesterday morning was a bit easier than today. I guess there was the novelty of the darkness that greeted me when I rolled out of bed at 6:30 and rushed through a blog post. Hubs, who had gotten his shower Monday night, crawled back into bed for a few minutes, so I had the peace and quiet of the house, my coffee (all I had to do was push the start butto...