The Effing Bachelor Just Killed Me.

And not in a good way. Night … ruined.

Of War And Roommates

It’s cold here today. Like, -9 cold. And in any other logical state, I’d likely stay home instead of having to get all rugged up like Randy in “A Christmas Story.”

However, my state is far from logical. I had to weasel my way in to getting Tuesdays off from now until the wedding just so I had a day where I could have fun and a day where I could focus on the big W. And today is a W day. I have to go to the fabric store and see if I can find the stuff to make a headband. I have to stop by at least 2 places in town to get quotes for alterations. I need to go peruse the other stores to see if I can find a headband alternative. I need a spinach feta bagel with an herb smear and a latte from Pearl Street. I need Thai food.

I needed Aussie to come with me, but it’s cold and I’m already on sensory overload for the day. It’s been nonstop noise and busy-ness in this house. I haven’t had any moments of Me time unless I retreat to my room, which I hate having to do. I’m afraid if he tags along, I will be uber-bitch, but I got Tuesdays off specifically to spend with him. I wanted to have the time to learn how to dance, to talk about where we’re at, to have a nice meal. But I’m afraid the Roommate Lords will forever reign in this battle. I am conquered.

Therefore, I must go alone. I don’t want to be a bitch, but I’m not going to win. So, quietly into the cold oblivion, I retreat to win the battle of Wedding, even though in the War of Roommates, I shall continue to be deafeated.

xo