11 days off from work. ELEVEN. I haven’t had this kind of break since college.
blah blah blah long story; I had the whole time off with no travel plans, no family and no social obligations whatsoever.
I had visions of Biggest-Loser-esque epic workouts to fill my days. I thought I would clean out and organize the closet-o-despair. I was going to bake sugar cookies and whole wheat cranberry bread. And the blog posts! Oh, the daily posts I was conjuring up!
But it’s turned into a total mollusk slug-out. Not like sexy escargot slugs. Like gross, pouring salt all over them on the back steps slugs.
I would gladly accept slugdom if its in exchange for feeling ultra rested and relaxed. Loafing around in pyjamas for days on end is my utopia. Except I’ve been staying up absurdly late reading YA novels and playing Tiny Tower on my iPhone and then waking up ass early because I’m ridiculous.
So instead of feeling serene and accomplished, I’m grody. Like a back porch slug who was beckoned by the golden siren song of or a dish of beer, got drunk, then got salted and had an oozplosian.
margaret edith 
I resemble this blog post. Please don’t oozeplode. And why do I feel like I had something to do with the YA novel extravaganza? I feel some texting coming on. Stay tuned.
You totally had something to do with it! I’m on book #5 of 5!
Have they all been good? LMK ur favorites.
You’re not alone- I’m pretty sure I ozzploded too. The hubs and I had three days off together, and all we did were eat insane amounts of christmas candy and watch nerdy movies. All of this in pyjamas…probably the same ones. It was epic and gross. The good news is that I’m motivated to be productive this week to atone for the grungefest that was Christmas weekend.