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YOU GUYS. We did it. ON TIME AND EVERYTHING. Seriously, whose blog is this cuz it’s certainly not mine. Cuz only a superhuman can write TWELVE blogs back to back to back and somehow get them posted BEFORE all the nail polish goes away. Soooo, on the off-chance this is my blog after all, well then who’s the Queen of the Carpal Tunnel, hmmm? I mean, I’m not saying it’s me, butttt … it’s probably me. Are bonus points coming? Only about a trillion, pretttty sure.
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A quick blog for you tonight, so we’re gonna jump right in with some things. The Polish Pickup is inching ever so close, and I am determined to get all these blogs done BEFORE the sale starts (as in, ideal scenario). So even though I’m just tossing out pictures and not saying words, pretending like I ain’t a huge drool-y mess and this is all NO BIG DEAL, let me assure you: it’s basically the BIGGEST big deal that you ever did see and I’ve got a thousand drool buckets here to prove it. But since we don’t have 18 years to just hang out in here reading things today, it’s onto the polish sans-fanfare we go. Weeee!
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Cooking is not the same as riding a bicycle: if you don’t do it often, you forget how altogether – and quite SPECTACULARLY if you want my opinion. Let’s just say – completely random example of course – you get married to a chef and pretty quickly get relegated to 1,825 days worth of dish duty cuz of the ONE TIME it took 15 years to cut an onion. And then let’s say that husband goes to work on New Year’s Eve and leaves you alone to fend for yourself (i.e., nightmare scenario) and you decide to make a casserole (with Dorito crumb topping!) cuz we like it effortless ’round here. So far so good, except … wellll, sometimes things ensue (again, LET’S JUST SAY).
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Who else is spending New Year’s Eve wearing pajamas and blogging about nail polish? Damn near NO ONE, pretttty sure. If y’all thought I’d be out doing something exciting and/or less incredibly sad, wellll … you’ve read this blog before right? I mean, there’s a 97.46867% chance I’ve been sipping on the same wine cooler for the past 3 hours. Annnnd, I might’ve strategically measured out 17 Ruffles and one tiny, depressing serving of French Onion dip cuz clearly I know how to party. Seriously, WHO WANTS MY LIFE? It comes with an extraordinary amount of nail polish, a hubby who makes sandwiches and a whoooole lotta nerd points. Actually, who just wants the nerd points, cuz I’m keeping all the rest. SANDWICHES, guys. They just appear out of nowhere around here.
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Just because we left two family size tubs of French Onion dip intended for mom’s Christmas party in the fridge (and effectively ruined said party if you want my opinion) and then had to buy gigantic bags of potato chips today so the dip wouldn’t go to waste DOES NOT mean I had a plan this whole time to sabotage the party and have an excuse to eat the chips and dip all by myself. I mean, it only seems suspicious. Cuz I’ve spent a great part of my life with my hand stuck inside a chip bag, and if it somehow wasn’t in a chip bag, well clearly that me wasn’t me but an imposter me and the real me had been kidnapped cuz that scenario seemed far more likely. But this time, I swear I behaved. Which might possibly be the saddest thing I’ve ever written.
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We’re over halfway done with this Polish Pickup blogging thing and the sale doesn’t even start for 7 whooooole days. Who’s overachieve-y? I’m overachieve-y! But I’ll be honest: it’s slipping fast. My mother-in-law got me a heated throw blanket for Christmas and I’ve legit been under that thing for about 96 hours straight. And pulling my arms out just so I can type a blog is proving to be nigh on impossible. Behind the scenes tidbit, guys: I’ve spent the past three days writing this paragraph. NOT A TYPO. If we somehow miraculously make it to the end of this one, it’d be a dadgum miracle.
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Jumping right into the polish tonight, as I’ve wasted enough time being lounge-y for the past few days. Well, not lounge-y lounge-y cuz I definitely had clothes on more often than not. And I went to an aquarium on Christmas Eve (i.e., nightmare scenario) and lost my grandchildren about 27,000 separate times. But my point – there is a point, I swear it, guys – is that I wasn’t blogging that much. I lounged but in the most un-lounge-y way possible. And effectively created about 7,397 Polish Emergencies for myself. So here we are, back at it. Attempt #6 at telling you about things before the things are no longer the things. Let us focus, shall we? We shall!
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Who else is spending Christmas Eve wondering why the cat’s been sitting in the dark staring at the toilet for the past two hours for no dadgum good reason? I mean, he literally hasn’t moved from one spot, not even by enticing him with smother-y hugs or full-on mouth kisses or NOTHING. At this point, I’m about 97.93749% certain the toilet is haunted, and in which case, GREEEEAT. I’m already terrified a snake is going to crawl out of it on a daily basis, so why not add one more baseless anxiety to the ever-growing mix? Seriously, WHO WANTS MY LIFE? Every single last one of you, pretttty sure.
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This blogging this has suddenly taken a var var serious turn. Cuz in-laws are coming for the holidays, and now I can’t sit and stare at a blank screen for like 18 hours straight like normal. Hubby says blogging in the bedroom with the door shut is RUDE, and also I have to put clothes on, soooo … Merry Christmas y’all. Hope you’re enjoying your pajama-full life. I’ll just be over here NOT BLOGGING and wearing clothes like a crazy person. Ugh.
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Three blogs in three days, two weeks ahead of schedule. I swear, is this even me right now cuz I legit don’t even know anymore. The fact I am currently drinking a smoothie with both spinach AND kale in it is further proof that something has definitely gone awry. YOU GUYS. The alarming lack of Cheetos and things with gravy on top is almost too much to bear. Seriously, WHOSE LIFE IS THIS? Let’s just assume I’ve been kidnapped and someone else is writing this blog, because somehow that makes more sense.
Snacks On Rotation 