So here we are the night before I get sliced 'n diced, though I hope not by Ronco. My house is relatively clean, the laundry is almost done, the sheets are new and I'm about to hop in the shower for one of two scrub downs I have to do. I can no longer eat, but fortunately I'm full of spaghetti and indifference to food.
I'll probably be off the airwaves for a while. Either that or I'll be tweeting on drugs. Either way works for me, though I'm sure it will be less fun for you.
I'd like to say farewell to my little pot belly. We met when I got pregnant with Liam, and while it's been fun, I'm still evicting you from your current address. Hopefully, you'll be much more happier in your new accommodations and and won't want to leave.
Since this post is turning out to be a lot weirder than I intended it to be, I'll sign off. I would appreciate any links to entertaining time-wasting sites in the comments. I'll have plenty of time on my hands to kill.
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