An Open Letter to The UPS Store
Nothing Good Will Come of This

The Secret Lives of Storches

On the agenda for tonight:

First up, a Peapod delivery. Food, blessed food. And toilet paper. Sheesh. Grown-ups?  Yeah, not yet apparently. 

Our fridge is bare except for condiments and some funky Thanksgiving leftovers that neither of us wants to deal with so we're having a bit of a stand-off.  As long as they remain securely tinfoiled we are protected from the presumably bad smell and the soaking and the scraping and the oy-good-glavin of the petrified food.  Although, I have nothing against soaking dishes. I'll soak a dish for a week if I have to, and periodically re-run the water and dish soap over it to camoflage how long I've been letting it soak.  But when it comes right down to it, I'd rather throw the damn dish out than dig out the steel wool and scrub the grodiness away.

But I don't. I mean, I'm not Jessica Simpson or anything.  I'll do laundry and fold clothes and scrub dishes...but I will take my own sweet time about it. And yes, I get my groceries delivered.  Shut up.  We live on the top floor with no elevator and it's haaarrrddd.

Besides Peapod, we have a whole night of TiVoriffic programming tonight.  Tuesday is a busy night, what with Gilmore Girls, 24 and Queer Eye on top of our usual round-up of Simpsons reruns and these hilarious old Buck Rogers episodes Jason's been taping that are just So Terribly Bad.  I love a good Terribly Bad show.  Then tonight there's also something called What's That Sound: The Making of the Queer Eye Music Video that could be Terribly Bad, Terribly Hilarious, or just Terribly Jump the Shark.  But you know what?  Who cares.

And one of these nights I WILL watch HBO's Angels in America.  I know I will love it. I know it's good for me to watch it.  But some nights?  Buck Rogers in the 25th Century just sounds much easier to take than Tony Kushner and all his infuriating brilliance.

But we may not watch that much TiVo tonight, as we have a Project.  I want to move our bedroom from the first floor to the loft upstairs in time for Christmas.  We had the bedroom upstairs when we first moved in, then changed our minds and moved it to the smaller room downstairs. Now we have changed our minds again.  Why?  Oh, I don't know, we're weird, we're bored, and the loft is the nicest room in the whole place and is currently being used as a dumping ground for stuff we don't know what to do with.  Plus, it's semi-open to the downstairs with just a railing and it wouldn't be very safe to use for a baby's room now would it?






No, not yet, calm down.



I might be home late tonight, so have fun with that. ;)

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