Sunday, December 20, 2009
Day One Hundred Fourteen 12/19/2009
Dress: Red Street Sign Shirt Dress
Purchased From: Goodwill in Thorndale maybe?
Year or Era Purchased: Late 1990s?
Accessories: snowflake socks, blue leg warmers, ballet flats, black tights, blue undershirt
Hair and Makeup: rag curled and knotty, no makeup
I pretty much knew I wasn't going to leave the house today so I wanted to be comfortable, hence this ridiculous weird shirt/smock/child's bathrobe thing that I like to wear as a dress. It was comfy and warm but I didn't feel so completely gross like I had surrendered myself to a pitiful stained sweatpants existence. I think I bought this in high school and I think it might very well be a little boys bathrobe but I don't care, if it's long enough I will throw on some tights and call it a dress. Don't think I won't.
I woke up feeling like ass around 10am and took some ibuprofen and slept off my headache and hangover until after noon. Somehow hours and hours went by and my only accomplishments involved watching television, cooking and baking. Michael was even more hungover than me and succumbed to sweaty p's all day. His are adorable matching plaid jammies completely lacking the pathetic stench of sweatpants, lucky for me.
I decided we should make and eat pizza since I bought dough and pizza fixins at Trader Joe's last week. I prepped the food and made some sauce and eventually involved MIchael in the dough portion of the endeavor. This is the one kitchen operation I have not stolen from him since he has worked in pizza shops and I am clueless. We assembled our pizzas, his of green peppers, onions and veggie sausage and mine of mushrooms and hearts of palm, and hung out while they transformed into bubbly crusty masterpieces. We watched and episode of Numbers while we ate and then I perused on demand finally settling on Taken. Since Michael was way more hungover than me and didn't leave the couch for more than the half hour the pizza required I left him in full remote control power. He surrendered it to me at one point when he lacked the energy needed to channel surf, which is when I put on Taken, something mindless and violent, perfect for a hungover man in pajamas.
Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately I don't know, I slept through some of the movie. After my short nap and movie I dragged my weary whisky soaked body back to the kitchen for the annual baking of the dog biscuits. I cut out bone, squirrel and cat shapes. I made a huge mess of the kitchen that I begrudgingly cleaned. Michael and I then couched it up watching parts of Wall-E and Spiderman. Days like these always cause inner turmoil. I don't like not leaving the house. At the same time I am not excited about working in the snow aftermath tomorrow. Should be tons of fun!