I don't feel like doing anything today.

Happy Friday, thank goodness, because I'm tired of this week and could use a good veg session in front of the television with some Saturday college football.  That's the life.  And there's only 2 months left of the season, I'm going to make the most of it.  Then get a prescription for Xanax for after college football is over because then there'll be 9 more months before I get my fix again.


Wednesday was a good day though.  Amazon was my friend by having free shipping on a book I've been eyeballing.  This is a Martha Stewart "good thing."  Because last night, Mr. Wookie relayed his schedule for the next 8 months.  And I'll be eating alone for good chunks of it.  So hurry up book and make it to my doorstep.

It was super cheap, previously enjoyed (yay, no trees were injured in the re-reading of this book), and had free shipping.  Umm, minus having it do the dishes, or wipe my bottttt! (that's for my sister-in-law right there - you're welcome), that's pretty awesome.  And I'm feeling the need for non-historical fiction pieces to enter my reading world.


I am jazzed about today though.  Mommy McD's (totally late, but always on time in my heart, because we can't for the life of us send on-time packages to each other) birthday present to me should be here TODAY!  I'm excited.  Because she totally gets me the lame shit I want for my birthday.  Last Christmas I got a hard-floor vacuum from Santa.  This year, wait till I awesomely post their use.  Maybe tonight.  If not, definitely tomorrow.


Last night I was Super Roommate of the Year by taking Mr. Wookie out for "Man Night."  He felt very excited that he was invited out with the Squadron Guys (and One Lady) because not everyone does.  If you're annoying/retarded/socially inept, you won't know about it.  Yay, no short bus for him.  This week.  But he is still the "FNG" (I really should take a picture of his name tag...because I didn't think it would actually say "FNG").


And why did I take him out?  Just in case things got rowdy.  I didn't want to have his car left overnight when he would need it in the morning.


Then the jackass proceeds to not tell me he got a ride home, the door opens to our place, as I'm totally not picking my face because I'm having some 14-year-old issues, and I about poo'd myself.  Umm, yes, Charles Manson come on in.  And no, it wasn't locked.  Yes, I realize I could have prevented myself from having an aneurysm.  But come on, I wasn't really thinking.  Besides, I couldn't pour myself a glass of liquid concentration because I had to be ready to pick him up.  Yes, this makes no sense.  No, you may not judge me.  Still.