I dun broke my running pants. Must've been running too fast, too hard, too run-a-lisciously. Yeah, whatever it's going to be a long month but I seriously did break my pants. I'm distressed, the cord broke in the middle of the, err waist band, and somehow I have to fish it out because I'm way too poor to buy new ones. It's going to take hours, which fortunately I have, but at the moment I'm too lazy. So this morning I had to wear my pippy longstocking socks with my not long enough sweatpants (seriously, capri sweatpants...what was I thinking) and my horribly yellow sweatshirt so I'm not mistaken for a deer and some truckers from canada honked at me. Sassy bastards. It was quite a look, like short stop on the baseball team of hell. How's that for imagery. Aren't I writer-y today. Hemingway, Hemingway, Hemingway.
So clearly I'm going frickin' insane in my house. Too much time alone and I'm completely out of things to dust. Just me and the meow. I'm going to braid her fur later and then we'll play truth or dare, it's gonna rock. I can't wait for my friend to get laid off so we can be bums together. Top of the list of things I never thought I'd wish for.