24 Aug

coco slept only five hours.  my toilet decided to stop working last night, whereas my bladder did not.  i read this and want to track down this poor lil kid’s parents and punch them in the throat (thankfully for them i’m a pacifist and have curiously small hands).  my recently purchased back-up underwear stash has already been depleted, whereas my laundry strike remains firmly in place.  i feel fat. there’s gonna be another cyrus in the world.   i think my cat is mad at me. i feel super guilty for eating all of the cheez-its and rice-crispy treats out of the earthquake kit that taunts me sits under my desk…and more importantly, i live in constant fear that my office manager will somehow find out.

so while all of the above may lead you to believe that i’m in a bad mood, coco is actually happy as a clam (deep thought…are clams really that happy?).  that’s because i’m taking friday off! friday Friday FRIDAY!   counting on my fingers and toes, it appears that means a 72-hour weekend for the coco. that’s a lot of hours, yo.  and there’s been talk of a trip to vancouver, canadialand to stalk bryan adams see nature and stuff.  or maybe a jaunt to malibu where i can watch surfers be hot surf?  perchance i can brunch in the OC with one-fourth of the palms springs posse?  regardless, i will get a much-needed break from concept note writing, 6:30 am conference calls, spreadsheets and my “i see dead people” temperatured office.

so until then, i’ll be doing EXACTLY what EVERYBODY’S doing per the best thing that EVER came out of canadialand (take note, celine!)

[song and red leather a$$ shakin starts at about–‘about’ said in the creepy canadialand way–the 2:20 mark]

happy almost weekend, y’all!

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