BAD MORGAN
Morgan says that I’m going to marry my planner someday.
She also says that she’s going to marry her I-Pod so at least there’s no shame in it.
(edit: http://www.livejournal.com/users/nagromthewicked/44784.html?nc=8)
I’m trying to wean myself off of my planner but it’s so hard for me it’s just not even funny. I’m addicted to making lists.
I went to IKEA last night (with a list of things to buy) and I bought a new dresser, two wooden storage units for the foot of my bed, and a shelf for our bathroom (that was extra cheap in the “As is” section). Tonight is the fun part where I actually get to attempt to put all this stuff together and get everything assembled. I’m going to roll up my sleeves and get out my power drill.
I should take the drill and chase Morgan around the apartment for a while because she freakin scares the shit out of me sometimes. I came home the other day and Morgan was lurking behind the door waiting on me. I put my key in the door, opened the door, turned the light on, shut the door and then screamed the loudest I think I have ever involuntarily screamed in my life. She just stands in corners waiting on me and freaks me out. She derives this crazy morbid pleasure out of it, too. Like seeing my face of pure fear is her idea of heavenly bliss.
BAD MORGAN.
She also says that she’s going to marry her I-Pod so at least there’s no shame in it.
(edit: http://www.livejournal.com/users/nagromthewicked/44784.html?nc=8)
I’m trying to wean myself off of my planner but it’s so hard for me it’s just not even funny. I’m addicted to making lists.
I went to IKEA last night (with a list of things to buy) and I bought a new dresser, two wooden storage units for the foot of my bed, and a shelf for our bathroom (that was extra cheap in the “As is” section). Tonight is the fun part where I actually get to attempt to put all this stuff together and get everything assembled. I’m going to roll up my sleeves and get out my power drill.
I should take the drill and chase Morgan around the apartment for a while because she freakin scares the shit out of me sometimes. I came home the other day and Morgan was lurking behind the door waiting on me. I put my key in the door, opened the door, turned the light on, shut the door and then screamed the loudest I think I have ever involuntarily screamed in my life. She just stands in corners waiting on me and freaks me out. She derives this crazy morbid pleasure out of it, too. Like seeing my face of pure fear is her idea of heavenly bliss.
BAD MORGAN.